Rolling, A Song of the Prairie
Big tractor wheels
taller than a man
carryin’ 300 horses
back and forth
back and forth
tilling the soil
planting the crop
A lazy swirl of dust
marks my way
Soil seeking heaven
…just like me
the way of earth
the way of man
seeds of promise
nestled into the waiting soil
dark. warm. moist.
A trigger is kicked!
Life clicks!
Root down, spike up
seeking sun up, and food down
Creation is a symphony
all parts singing a song
Here it is before us:
the Song of the Prairie
Tree Hugger
great grandparents settled here
Planted themselves
and then planted trees
Apple trees, pear trees
Osage orange and ash trees
The Osage Orange were windbreakers
cause the prairie sure had wind!
They made great fence rows
and nearly permanent fence posts
Some still line the boundaries
The fruit trees were very precious
cause sugar sure was high
so sweetness was very special
jams and jellies tasted mighty good
all through the long, cold, and snowy winters
Ash is a good hard wood
for making strong shovels and handles
and hand work was the way to do
The ash trees grew so tall
they seemed to touch the clouds
Strong winds served to do the pruning
broken branches made good fires
for cooking and for heating water
and heating the big old farmhouse
Over a century old now
my arms won’t reach around one
limbs way up in the trees
are big around as trees as well!
But time goes by
and nature has its way
to raise things up
and bring things down
We have the Green Ash Borer
The trees will die.
All of them.
for a decade or more I’d guess
but it’s a sad sad time
to see them starve
from all their wounds
Fewer and fewer leaves
until the last leaf falls
and the tree stands sullen, barren
No leaves to greet me in the dawn
no shade for noonday sun
or evenings on the porch swing
no watching the branches lean
as strong winds shake the house
No place to hide the Robin’s nest
just lifeless wood
awaiting the saw, the axe
the fire I sit beside
As winters pass
I’ll stoke the fire
read my books and ponder
Bout how this is earth
with all its problems
and how there is a heaven
This summer I’ll hug each tree
give them my small blessing
thanking the Creator
for the century the ash trees gave us
and thanking for diversity
for oaks and maples and Hawthorns and others
Perhaps I’ll slice some boards from ash tree logs
and build some things to remember
Selah, Lin 4/12
Working the Broom
clean sweeping nooks and crannies
My mind is rich in pictures
of ladies working a broom!
I see grandma
with her broom corn broom
made by a certain blind fellow
down Tuscola way
Grandpa and I visited the guy
every now and then
I watched the man’s fingers fly
and he stitched the wad of strands
the product of a special corn
Grandma would work that broom
somewhere every day
inside the house and down the walk
I still see her chasing dust!
First morning in Japan
I arose and looked out the window
I saw Japanese ladies working brooms
sweeping their porch and steps
then the sidewalk on to the middle of the street!
Wow! Did they work their brooms!
handles and tines kept shiny
and farm wives had their brooms
to shoo away some critter
doin’ something nasty
“Out! Shoo! Shoo!”
I’d hear, knowing who would win
the ‘woman of the house’ for certain!
I had a certain uncle
who took it ‘pon himself
to keep us kids in line.
Somewhere in his past, I guessed,
his mom, my sweet grandma,
had used her broom on him!
His threat to us, on needed occasion, was
“You behave! Or your mom will…
work her broom on YOU!”
Terror! He had our attention!
We all knew
mom could work that broom!
Progress has come to many things
but the corn broom has survived!
Plastic tries, but cannot win
we still have the same old brooms
and farm wives still
know how to use ’em
Shudder!
Better behave or else….
Selah, Lin 4/12
Pain Full Memories
slapping us, jerking us around
War brings horror over the top
so tough
experiences can’t be spoken
But they are remembered
though they’re buried deep
Sometimes decades later
the ice is broken
and they come out
December 7, 1941
a ‘Day of Infamy’
when thousands died
and more were injured
memories planted deep
June 6, 1944
Normandy
the greatest armada of all time
paratroopers landing
ships pouring soldiers onto beaches
bodies floating in the surf
the beach a graveyard
150,000 invaders
coming coming coming
in some outfits
9 of 10 died
but in others, most lived
to fight
memories planted deep
pain full, memories
Somehow people went on
to come home, to live,
raise families, work
The painful memories pushed back
pushed down
but very much there.
Ours to listen, to care,
to ask ourselves:
“What did we lose?
What did we win?”
What We Lost, and What We Won*
Will we remember
the world at war
Army’s marching
aiming, shooting
shells exploding
cities smashed
families dreams as well
can be measured
Freedom, from tyranny
cruel insanity
a madman was in charge
madmen came to help him
evil was set free
people died in ovens
in concentration camps
Jewish men in a line
pressed together, front to back
shot to see
how many could be killed
with a single bullet
American soldiers eaten
on far off Pacific Islands
Some sacrificed their lives
Some suffered wounds forever
and some came home to
The Land of the Free,
and the Home of the Brave…
We helped win freedom
to live and grow and be
in this land of opportunity
Sustained by God
we have gone on
that is what we won
Men and women working
worshipping freely
raising families in peace
not even locking doors
children playing into summer nights
friends visiting, laughing, talking
a generation, then two, then three
free to come and go
A handful now, in uniform
vigilant, on guard, protecting
Then, every family was touched
someone in uniform
everyone purposed:
Stop Adolph Hitler
Stop the Emperor’s minions
Stop the world, from going insane
What we lost was half a decade
millions of people and more
“Maybe we will not remember,
what we lost…
and what we won…”*
Lin, 4/2012
*Listen to Ben Bedford, writer, singer,
B is for Blankie
has to have his B
to feel the world is right
With it he can sleep
let the world go away
A common thing
this blankie time
for little ones round the world
Something about a softness
a shield
to sense the world’s in place
Late winter, early spring,
last year’s corn stubble does its thing
capturing the blowing snow
trapped, it is a blankie, a “B”
protecting winter wheat
Often falling silently in the night
it piles like feathers over the fields
gently tucking in the rich black soil
something about a softness
a shield
to sense the world’s in place
mellows with the moisture
freezing, thawing, soaking in
the melting snow
the blanket comes and is pulled back
over and over again
Soon enough machines will roar
and till the earth to plant
but just now rest
sleep well
all is well, all is well
Lin, late winter snow blanket 2/2012
Joe Warfel and his “B”
I remember tiny Harry, with his blankie pulled up over his face, only two little hands showing gripping the top edge of his blankie….
Not to mention his mom…, and her blankie! Or Kate!
What Hath the News- Gazette Wrought?
“Helloing’ here and there.
Handshakes, smiles, friendly comments,
a welcoming on all sides.
Up two steps to the speakers platform
stepping up to the podium, the mike,
he looked out upon the moving sea
listened to the voices
watched the people moving, mixing
These folks like each other!
“Good evening!”
spoken once
spoken twice
a few folks find their seats
but the waves continue
greetings abounding
The president studied some more
and saw, it was good:
These folks enjoy each other!
Farm leaders and spouses
people who’ve risen tall
carrying the ball in many ways
plays writ out large in lives lived well
living well
Tested by storms and drought
floods and markets
government kerfluffles
the vagaries of life
they’ve taken their blows
and risen
selected by peers,
the News Gazette brings them together
to add another, once a year
Forty years coming
people with faces gather
honoring each other and a new one
comfortable in who they are
Finally, they’re all seated
and the program begins
Recognitions, a video
and the honoree speech
Well done,
good and faith full servant
The News-Gazette!
It works!
Lin 4/2012 Farm Leader of the Year Award Banquet