this valley farmland goes on and on

by mark kazav

long days spent on our knees
bent over
we scooped up hope by the handful
and held it up to the wind
and let it go
below us  prayer
or something like prayer
conversations with something greater
beds on wheels rolled past
pulled by mules
carrying the newly dead
time is a shield  a blanket
a heavy over-shirt
a common well shared by all
on we worked
scooping and lifting
day past into evening
and then on into night
owls made their pleasant sounds
and one by one the stars opened up
and blessed us with light
-----
no one to be seenÂ
and no one to see meÂ
this valley farmland goes on and onÂ
peaceÂ
the sun at noonÂ
crops growing in the warm lightÂ
as far as the eye can seeÂ
-----
wake up out thereÂ
pay attentionÂ
I have crossed the lineÂ
where one begins to get oldÂ
do not contradict me with nonsenseÂ
you are still youngÂ
you are only as old as you feelÂ
that’s all denialÂ
you have never met a personÂ
who stays youngÂ
you have never met a personÂ
who fails to get olderÂ
don’t take yourself so seriouslyÂ
you are no more or less importantÂ
than the rustles in the tall grassÂ
made by a jackrabbitÂ
you are no more or less importantÂ
than the rings of SaturnÂ
or the ride of lady godivaÂ
no matter who we are or aren’tÂ
the sun still risesÂ
the tide still sweeps the piersÂ
james lee jobe

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