Three Kinds of Pie

(click the thumbnail above for more Nebraska pix)

In the Corners of Fields,
by Ted Kooser, 13th US Poet Laureate

Something is calling to me
from the corners of fields,
where the leftover fence wire
suns its loose coils, and stones
thrown out of the furrow
sleep in warm litters;
where the gray faces
of old No Hunting signs
mutter into the wind,
and dry horse tanks
spout fountains of sunflowers;
where a moth
flutters in from the pasture,
harried by sparrows,
and alights on a post,
so sure of its life
that it peacefully opens its wings.

Last weekend, Hope missed witnessing the birth of twin calves by a couple of hours. People travel all over the world to see cool things. The Great Wall, Taj Mahal, Machu Picchu. Which is fine. But it’s pretty cool that there’s amazing stuff going on in our back yard. And among the hundreds of things I have to be thankful for, way up on the list is that Hope is able to spend time in Nebraska, riding in tractors, visiting with the cows, and eating lots of fried chicken, gravy, and pie. Which, best I can tell, is what Professor Kooser is talking about.

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2 Responses to Three Kinds of Pie

  1. Lea Ann says:

    I grew up in the middle of Kansas on a wheat farm, and spent the first part of my life doing all those things. One year on one of my early birthdays, twin cows were born. Dad gave them to me and I remember being horrified when they grew up and were loaded up to go to sale. Love your John Deere photos … it was the only color my dad would buy.

  2. muddywaters says:

    All the time Ella gets to spend on the ranch with her grandparents is a great blessing. I’m so thankful she has that time with them. While I love the great cities of our country, there’s probably more to glean from the fields/pastures of Nebraska than the streets of NYC.

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