The Sulky Plow

Simple were the things that brought me so much joy, Growin' up on the farm as a Hoosier country boy! Barefoot, straw hat, patched overalls and summer tanned, As free as a soarin' eagle as I roamed that prairie land! Dad farmed the old homestead with teams of horses and mules. He had a Massey-Harris tractor he used to tow heavier tools. But to turn the sod he used his mules, old faithful Fred and Joe, Who understood Dad's subtle commands of "gee, haw and whoa!" He sat upon the brutal steel seat of his John Deere sulky plow, Turnin' ten acres of soil a day, and now I wonder how! Ah, what a pleasure to trot in that cool, fresh-turned furrow, And wiggle my toes in the loam the shiny moldboard would burrow! My old pal, Spooks, bounded hither and yon a-chasin' rabbits, Of which there was a multitude, due to their promiscuous habits! As the sulky plow turned the soil, I'd poke around with a stick, To collect wiggly worms for feeshin' later in the ripplin' "crick". Anon, Fred and Joe and the sulky plow were all retired, Replaced by a Farmall tractor, shiny red and rubber tired. Dad reluctantly gave up his sulky plow and bid it a sad adieu. Alas, it was conscripted for scrap to aid in World War Two! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)