the leaves have fallen
the corn has been gathered
winter is over the horizon
the barn, the silo, the crib
holders of the investment
more likely not the profit
*************
boots by the lounge chair
family farmer is sleeping
tired from the toil and labor
it is a tired-ness he welcomes though–
different than the tired-ness of working
the other punch-the-clock, full-time job
he works to pay the bills
different than the tired-ness of dealing
with the vision-less developer
calling weekly
different than the tired-ness of tacitly
fighting a future that is designed
to extinct him–
the tired-ness from working the fields is
welcomed because it is honest
**********
driving through bucolicy
a gentle wave of hello
sun shines over barren fields
i am warmed wholely
soon to be overtaken by
sadness and melancholy
and then, by anger
**********
“save the farms,” say the city folk,
say the academics, say the politicos
why do we not hear, “save the family farmer”
why do we not hear, “save the family farming
way of life”
why do we not hear, “save agrarian culture”
why do we not hear, “current agriculture policy
is not agri-cultural at all”
what good is the “saved” farm
without the farmer
who will be here to nurture
the “saved” farmland
how will the “saved” farmland
be farmed
will it be cared for intimately
will it be walked with careful steps
will it be planted with good intention
will it be harvested and sold locally
**********
seems too big to stop
“the way things are”
if only i had millions
but don’t, so be active
buy local, buy sustainable,
buy organic, buy from
farmer’s markets
“it costs more”
not always, and hey
“there is always a
price to pay”
a price for losing
a price for winning
the dollar speaks
the dollar speaks
the dollar speaks
what will you make it say
(written 16 November 2003)
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