Amish Traditions Poem by wallace du Temple

I woke up in Amish town
Centre of mixed farming
Where hard working folk
In black stockings, long dresses
Full beards, and bracers
Resist outside ways.
No monocultures here,
But pigs, cows, fallow fields
In crop rotation
Corn, millet, alfalfa, wheat
A quilt of colourful rural squares in Pennsylvania.
From my hotel window
I heard the steely clip clop, clip clop
Of iron horse shoes pinging on pavement
Before I saw the black box of an iconic Amish carriage
Whirling wooden spokes of wheels a blur in turning
And an elder in top hat and white shirt
Reigned his horse to a stop
In the drive through, self-serving lane
Of an ATM
For cash.