a farm scene

a farm scene

 

 

the mountains are green in Vermont

but the snow falls just as white

as the downy feathers 

of the practical chicken

who comes in from the cold

 

saves her eggs for spring

when humanity emerges

from its shell

 

and like old turtles

we all walk across that road

as slowly as a year passes

 

unless we get run over

before getting to the other side

Life.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

12/19/23

Reviews

[Desert Knave]

Really caught me off-guard with the end. Nicely done. ~Jim

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Jim...
j.

[andrew mitchell]

Not a moment to waste. It’s all about the journey.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, andrew.
j.

[Amanda Reynolds]

I love this, especially the shift at the end of the poem, clever and powerful!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, Amanda,
j.

[Lorry]

And I just hope I don't see that Michelin tyre coming! 😊
Why we bother I don't know, because we know by the time we've crossed the road, we'll have long forgotten the why we done it in the first place. 😊

[jacob erin-cilberto]

so true, thank you, Lorry,
j.

[Arundass TP]

Even though small poem it's powerful. I love scenes you created , the last line makes more philosophical than any other. Good poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for your kind words, Arundass,
j.

[Ted Kniffen]

Spent many a hot summer on my uncle's farm in Michigan. My cousin and I had an assortment of chores to do before we could relax.
It was hard work but overall fun.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you for sharing that, Ted,
j.

[Stella Armour]

Sadly we don't all make it to the "Other side", but to admire the journey is an absolute must ...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, the journey is what is important...
for sure.
thank you, Stella,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

Vermont at any time of year must be beautiful. I know how special that place is to you. The chicken coming in from the cold. This poem speaks to me of caution. That last stanza in particular. Crossing roads needs to be handled with care dear J.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

look both ways...oops...didn't.

thanks, Chris,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

Once upon a Time, I travelled alone to our family farm in Delaware. My Grandfather bought forty acreas in Delaware after being a Coal Miner in West Virginia and raised six babies to be not yet twenty. Some matured to build a home on their share of the Land when they were older. I was the oldest Grandchild, and am now I am the best Survivor of all the Grandchildren. When our Grandparents passed, I compromised and saved the Land for all concerned; however, I inherited my share. My husband and myself had a few Cabin Sheds brought in and we would Camp in the Woods with our small pot belly stoves in cold weather. The Land was fairly close to Rohoboth Bach, so a Rendezvous was always available to splash in the Waves of the Atlantic Ocean. I was given an Oriental Chicken with fluffy white feathers and the Cone on it's head and the Feet were Turquoise instead of a pale orange... a phenomenon that I cherished. We named her or him "Buck Buck" and had many Conversations that stirred our Imagination. It is amazing how Intelligent a Chicken or a Duck can be. This may be a Vignette of sorts... and one I love to share before I join the Spirit World where Peace abides. gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Buck Buck...love that story....
Nothing like a farm!
j.