Posted in Before the Rain

Please

The earth moved,
celestial mechanics.
Winter benched by spring = planting,
to be benched by summer = growing,
to be benched by autumn = harvest.

Spring, out of the lab and into the field,
tissue culture becomes seedling, becomes plant,
becomes crop.
Agronomy, it’s what we do –
why the government pays us.
Results : what the farmers want,
and increased yield.

Every year,
coming from university to the hinterland
vacation time students – near graduates.
Practicum,
spending summer toiling the soil,
learning the difference between applied and theoretical
and
tilling …… and the till.

Rumour maintained this year there would be only two,
normally four –
belt tightening, rumour added, government deficit etc.
Rumour also thought both were women.
Almost graduates?
Their age must be in the same street as mine
Or one over –
two at most.
I hoped rumour was truth.

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Author:

Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.