when Grandpa just gave up all hope,
believed he was beaten,
or confessed surrender of this old farm back to the earth?
Was there ever a barren year, or barren wife,
when poverty talked too loudly,
or hope spoke too softly?
Were there ever days when he was too tired,
too sore, and too sick to see any beauty in the land,
any hope in a crop,
or any truth in God?
There must be a million secrets
laying in the furrows tonight.
A light snow falls on his dreams.
~ Joan Pritchard
Joan Pritchard is a former educator, now retired and writing full-time. She is the fourth generation owner of the family farm in Central Kansas. Her poetry has been published in nature and special interest magazines. She is currently writing devotions and a children’s novel. She writes with one foot in the city and one on the farm.
Dan Bentley is a No-La/Kaw dwelling organic gardening seed saving bioregionalist who hails from western plains, writes, draws, paints, sings as spirit moves, laughs with wife, cats, friends, family, observing life cycle absurdity/profundity.