If a man asked her about Kansas wheat and cattle,
she’d tell him once upon a time they paid for
her Easter dresses and Christmas presents, trips
to the dentist, her college degree. Manure, slick
and underfoot, and sharp sunny kernels pouring
from spouts to waiting truck beds help to tell
the story vining around her, deep-rooted. But at night
crowds of stars still wink at her, pull her toward them
as she stands and watches from the old corral, soil
pushing up spring grasses, the fences gone now.
– Jackie Magnuson Ash
Comments on: "56. To the Stars Through Difficulty: Jackie Magnuson Ash" (4)
Jackie–I love your answer to my poem. I got a little chuckle out of it as well. My aunt and uncle lived on a farm and I still remember that smell of manure and growing things when we visited them. It was a comforting aroma.
Jackie–I got a chuckle out of your lovely poem and the clever way you answered my poem. My aunt and uncle owned a farm and I still remember the wonderful smells of growing things, animals, and the resultant manure, and good food when we visited them.
I got a chuckle out of your poem, as well, especially the fallow fields and make-out sessions. Renga rocks! I’m enjoying everyone’s contribution.
I love the variety. It’s amazing that we can come up with so many ways of dealing with the same topic.