Garden of Meager Harvest

Garden of a Meager Harvest By David J Walker The rusted remains of the old farm truck Remain on the untilled patch of prairie grass plains as long as I can remember The old Farmall tractor Planted on the southside of a Long row to hoe that I know All too well A windmill unused for years Squeals and creeks in a wind That still tries in vain to Turn its blades For a cool drink of water Monuments held captive inside a barbed wire fence as if to prevent an escape The trusted truck stands ready As if it’s rusted out bed could Carry to market the fruit of A summers labor The remains of the old Pick-up lost its windows Long ago Field mice have nested under The bench seat and eat Everything that isn’t rusted metal How long before its tires Finally expire exhaling rust Giving up the ghost Of a dusty last breath Of a garden's meager harvest