The Poetry Of.
Nathan A. Baker...............................................
Zen Farmer
The dull roar from furnace fan in basement
Takes me down a red dirt road in Carolina
Two-toned Chevy faded blue; whitewalls spinning,
Radio speaker beating out a country tune
My Uncle Jack behind the wheel a happy smile
Beaming from his sun weathered face
Engine's six cylinders droning as we ride
Headed down to Gray's Creek, country style.
Kindness dwelled in Jack's small wood framed house.
Painted green, it blended into the pine woods surrounding.
Hound dogs barked and jumped excitedly at his presence,
As he'd wheel, gravel crunching, into the driveway
Yapping, Jack's back! Until Jack traveled the distance
To fence, talking gently to them as he walked
His voice, an audible sedative calming and quieting
Until tail wagging their barks faded to silence.
Late afternoon and early morning hours would bring
Gray squirrels to his side door seeking peanuts
Uncle Jack would sometimes sit hand feeding
The bushy-tailed creatures; he had pet names for each
And they eagerly responded to the names
He had bestowed. The friendship kept them happily
Chattering to him in a sound a lot like thanksgiving.
Squirrels were safe in his neck of the woods.
Farming cotton and corn was his livelihood
Being kind to God's critters was his life's work.
My memories of him are a colorful array of marbles
A feed sack filled with shooters, flints, and cat eyes
Reflecting back like golden orbs of sunlight
Each polished and gleaming with delight
A Barn at Gray's Creek
It had once been a beautiful structure
But now it sat gray and empty
Boards in disarray; stairs to loft blocked.
In the livery only worn tack and memory
Remained to mingle with the musky smell
Of old manure and dust motes floating
Through tattered rough hewn wooden siding
With no hand sawn slatted batten to disturb.
The Old Man is Smiling
On a red Carolina back road
Heading west to Tennessee
Elevation getting steeper
Rising toward destiny
Southern belle in Memphis
Ringing by the river's tide
Jasmine in the roses
Resonance so fine
Full moon in the rearview
Mirrors high above pines
The old man is smiling
Sipping robust wine
Lifting toast to rolling river
Muddy meter marking time
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