The rhythm of the scythe plume
In the summer heat.
The step-by, step-by cadence
Of the old man’s steady feet.
The zip-saw of the whet-stone
Against the metal blade.
The wizened hands like leather
That never knew the shade.
And I am just a child again
On a tumbled stoop;
Watching ancient haying,
Marveling at the crop
Of tumbled swathes of timothy
Falling layer on even layer
To the mercy of the scythe.
Adeline Foster's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (, Hand-Haying by Adeline Foster )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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