carolina turnip bed

Carolina Turnip Bed

 

There is an old pattern of planting

in hills & harvesting near cold

The tenacity of a turnip's grip

into a long, slow growth

It is a purple thing & white

It is a plain, strong plant

It is in the field & summer is

drunk in the dark on our skin

The crickets squat & pitch

in their high voices

The moon props a pie face

into the distant trees

and there is only you

waiting for the first of me

I nimble my right hand

to find the snaps of freedom

that keep us grounded

I hear a white heart beat

from the strong armed mound

of the pastor's field

of hard hidden turnips.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

As in much of your work, there is the feel of the borderline mystical and magical. The juxtaposition of two seemingly unrelated concepts--a relationship and the planting and harvesting of turnips--is handled so elegantly and artfully that it makes a reader feel unable to understand how the natural connection had escaped him until now.

[C. Harter Amos]

Very lyrical poem. It's sweet and lazy, like summer in the Carolinas. "The moon props a pie face into the distanct tree, And there is only you." The center of the poem, physically and emotionally. Who would have thought of love in a pastor's turnip field as being a natural, romatic place to be? I wondered if you were comparing the tenacity of the turnip and its long slow growth, with your love. Interesting and enjoyable piece.

[Emily B]

oh, I missed this, I've been searching everywhere this morning for something I WANTED to read. And here it is. I'm not much on turnips and greens, the foods my grandparents thrived on, I wonder if I won't learn to love them after all.

[Larissa G.]

"It is a purple thing & white
It is a plain, strong plant" - among the rest of the style of the poem, going from the setting to the plant back to the setting felt a bit strange when reading. I would either remove this or move it to another line.

Otherwise I sincerely enjoyed reading it, and seeing the implications towards how we are grounded and need to be harvested to reach a freedom of sorts. Or else I read too far. :) But it made me think, always good.

Well done.