Walking in a Farmer’s Shoes
By: Morganlee Cheatham
Lying, belly down, on her grandmother’s carpet, the day has begun
Elbows in her hands and knees bent up, she stares.
Stares at the birds that hum and flint past the windows,
Me-maw and Papaw’s farm.
Heavy heat coated the rocky hill
Climb up, climb down, pick it up, and pack it down.
Boots too big, but the lanolin will make them shine,
Sweaty face and dirty shirt she smiles.
Oval, round and striped melons
Lift with your knees not with your back
Row after row of striped watermelons,
A harvest begging to be picked, on the hottest day of summer.
Two steps to his one
A checkered farm shirt and trucker hat
A tiny hand in a farmer’s heart,
Farm life doesn’t wait.
No time for hugs
No time for kisses
Time to get up
Farming won’t wait
You’ve become older
I’ve moved away
More time for hugs
More time for kisses
Farm life has learned to wait.
I’ll never be to grown up for Memaw and Papaw’s hugs
Never to grown up for Memaw and Papaw’s love.
© Copyright 2016 Morgan Lee. All rights reserved.
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