Monday, March 6, 2006

The last farmer's ghost

Haunting empty fieldsof overgrown weeds,
walking the rows where corn once grew
he moans and mourns
the lost season,
the hallow ground, now laying fallow ground.

He died and no one was there to bury him
and so he haunts and walks
as he always has
this earth only dear to him


hipchickmamma said...

very moving...emotive. great poem.

Dan Trabue said...

You're too kind. Thank you.

It feels a bit short to me, like I ought to be adding something to it.

Maybe eventually.