Saturday, July 21, 2007

Cultivating Cotton

A handful of soil trickles through his fingers
As he looks across the ground
So recently covered by the massive
John Deere tractor and plow.
Squatting on one heel
He digs into the loose soil
Testing the moisture
And the depth of the cultivation.
A smile creases the weathered face
As he heads back
To the pickup,
Cellphone pressed to his ear,
Directing one of the hired hands
On which field to cover next.
The blooms are setting well
And the promise of fall is heightened
By good rains that have fallen.
If it doesn't hail
And there's not an early freeze
And nothing breaks down
He might make a little money this year.
The banker will appreciate that.
They aren't too happy
When you have to carry the note over
Into the new crop year.
Let's hope the price holds...


Incognito said...

I so admire farmers! Such a hard life. Though I know they love it.

WomanHonorThyself said...

Incog is right~! a city girl I can hardly imagine !

Donald Douglas said...

Thanks for my mornin' poem!

MotherPie said...

"Walking in Tall Cotton" is a saying that has been in my husband's family for several generations at least.

Kay Dennison said...

This is excellent! I can literally see the picture you've painted here. Thanks!

Panhandle Poet said...

Thanks, y'all. Kay: When you can actually smell the fresh-plowed soil -- that's when it comes to life! Thanks for visitin'.

Janie said...

What an accurate picture!! I have lots of farmer friends. I, too, love the smell of that freshly plowed soil.