On the Farm

The smell of sweet decay

Rises from the fallen leaves

And broken poplars

In late September

Geese cackle noisily

And cowbells ring.

Inside, the smell of apple pies baking

And Uncle Hank’s pipe

There are biscuits on the table

And coffee served in chipped mugs

Real cream and cubes of sugar

“Gather the eggs, would you dear?”

 

*Poem first appeared in “The Ultra Best Short Verse 2018” Anthology, A Beret Days Book, The Ontario Poetry Society