Saturday, March 15, 2014

Mountain Farm in Spring

Tipper on Blind Pig and the Acorn reminded me of a poem I wrote a few years ago. In rural areas we often see this scene in spring. Hope you like it.

Mountain Farm in Spring

Narcissi nod to the impotent chimney
pointing black against the sky,
where flames melted the snow,
left only charred debris and heartache.

Beyond a span of unmowed grass
crawling bees hum in crimson cups
of tulips at the well. Beside brick steps
that lead nowhere, forsythia shouts.

Pear trees dress in lacy white
behind the barren barn.
Near the mailbox, a tilted sign,
Farm for Sale.


Maren O. Mitchell said...


Lise said...

This poem makes me want to find that for sale sign and make that farm a much loved home once again.

Glenda Beall said...

Hi Maren and Lise,
Thanks for your comments. Lise, I hoped someone would feel that way because that was how I felt.

Gay said...

Got a moment today to go back and read all your posts I haven't seen, and I fell in love with this poem. So beautifully written.

Glenda Beall said...

Thank you, Gay. I appreciate your reading and commenting on my blog.