The Farmer (Haibun) Poem by Thomas James Martin

Father farmed most of his life. He loved land, growing things, and animals. He went off to work early in the morning whistling and singing.

When about to retire, he could no longer make a living as a farmer but he found work at the local chicken processing plant, where thousands of chickens awaited slaughter. They gave him a heating iron to burn off the ends of the chickens' beaks, so that they would not damage each other through pecking.

He lasted a week, making pets of them all.


hoeing tobacco
row after row
sweat like dew

Published Haibun Today(2008)