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Yin with Yang

by gard 

Posted: 17 June 2004
Word Count: 240
Summary: Something I wrote a while ago.

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Yin with Yang

The seeds that grow,
the old pigmented hand
can put asunder,
to nourish
or nurture not; to feed or forget.

The old mans hands have their task ahead.

Father Nature
is rubbing seeds and husk
between his old pigmented hands
with thickened gnarled fingers
painful but focused.

Years of toil
leave callouses on knuckles
nails curve hard; eagles claws
earth underneath;they are never cleaned.
No point. Dirt returns relentless.
His bent bones grate,
he blows seeds to the wind
raspberry lips and rasping lungs,
pause only to wheeze
and coughing a little in the dry dust.
A thousand light harvesters scatter,
flutter to fertile soil.
The fertile soil, turned, deep, filled with
life blood and centuries bone meal.

He wears a hat. It has not protected his face,
filled with lines; deep crevices mark
the years across his brow.

Something else

Sitting on a old wood crate
a manly fashion, wearing a dark dress.
She laughs freely in earthy cracked tones
pulling the cork from a bottle
of ripe luscious red.

They take bread and cheese;
talk about the past, until
a light rain falls soft against their faces.
It softens their weathered,
leathered skin, a little.
They walk slowly home,
arm in arm, bent with
joints cracking and jovial banter,
steadfast, satisfied.
The evening bathes them,
a soft-focus yellow light,
a glimmering veil to the dim eye.
And they both agree,

Today, the work is done.

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Comments by other Members

roovacrag at 10:23 on 18 June 2004  Report this post
Gard excellent poem. Very vivid and i could see the picture you was painting here.
Enjoyed it.
Well done.
xx Al

Ticonderoga at 09:20 on 19 June 2004  Report this post

Very tender, beautifully observed, with a gentle, rural rhythm perfect for the subject; really lovely.



gard at 14:11 on 19 June 2004  Report this post
Hi Roovacrag and Ticonderoga

thank you for your lovely comments.


LONGJON at 02:13 on 22 June 2004  Report this post
Hi Gina,

You know, this reminded me vividly of Laurie Lee and "Cider With Rosie" - I have read that story so many times and love it every time. During my time at Woolverstone, Suffolk, would often see workers on the local farms that would fit your character perfectly, heavy cotton trousers, boots, bowyangs or gaiters on the trousers. It is a powerful image, this identity with place and occupation.

John P.

Lawrenco at 22:56 on 22 June 2004  Report this post
Really enjoyed this ,Gina,it certainly had a nintenth century (or earlier) peasant in the English countryside feel:Can almost see a Constable painting here.
Certainly a bias to the yang I would have thought.Cold ,dark, hard working etc ...
The title for me certainly lent me to think it was going to be a different kind of poem that it was,
that added to my surprise and enjoyment.
Could also be a peasant in a developing country,who suffers similar conditions as the peasant then.

gard at 23:17 on 22 June 2004  Report this post
Hi Lawrenco and LongJohn

thanks for your comments and encouraging remarks. Lawrenco you have not posted for a while?


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