Staring out the windshield, he’d daydream about times
When, as a boy, he’d work for his dad,
And remember a quiet and simpler life
When your paycheck was the rich life you led.

He’d lean on the fender of that old LA Case*
And reach over to steer with one hand,
While the heat of the motor cut the cool morning air
As the sun slowly climbed o’er the land.

He’d watch as a hawk circled high overhead
And imagine being up there
Lookin’ for mice the one-way’d** scare up
While he’d lazily float in the air.

Then sip cool water from a denim-wrapped jug
He’d filled at the windmill that day
And think about chicken Mom was fryin’ for dinner
When he’d walk home to eat at mid-day.

The heavy, rich odor of fresh-turned soil
Drifts back to him now and again
As his mind reviews pictures of small joys of livin’
When you cultivate life on the land.


From Four Aces and a Queen (Outskirts Press, 2021).
Used here with the author’s permission.

*A farm tractor popular in the 1950s
** A disc harrow that plows the soil 'one way', as opposed to a tandem disc that throws the soil one direction, then another, in the same pass