Farmer John

Fog crept in

‘til the valley was flooded

With eerie silence

Desolate, cold-blooded

Kernels were plucked

From decorative corn

Swallowed by ravens

With feathers worn

Perched upon scarecrows

Stuffed with straw

Silent witnesses

As the wolves gnaw

On a bone that sticks up

From damp, cold dirt

Wearing the remnants

Of a red plaid shirt

Worn by Farmer John

Many days of his life

But never a favorite

Of the farmer’s wife

She hands out candy

To costumed kids

Her smile masking

What she once did

Out in the garden

Where summer decays

Her secret buried

Where Farmer John lays

Thanks for stopping by!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s