Debra Coppinger Hill

Dinner For One - Poem by Debra Coppinger Hill

On cold days
when the stock is gathered
near the tanks
and the steam rises from the water
and mixes with their breath
in the air,

She thinks of him
in that far away place
and wonders
if he ever thinks of her...

Then she spreads the feed, scatters the hay
and talks to the horses,
Going on with this life she was born to
and chooses to stay with.

But, sometimes in the dusk,
as she drives back to the barn,
she hears his voice
saying he would give it all up
just for her,
if only she would say the word.

She supposes
the word she said
was not the correct one.
She cannot
give up the land.
It will not let her.
It demands her attention.
And he is jealous,
but unwilling to fight
for her love.

So, she hangs up her coat,
kicks off her boots,
fixes dinner for one
and watches
the evening Ag. reports.

Before sleep
she will write in the farm journals
kept up for generations
and now her responsibility...
“Bred heifers looking well,
no sign of sickness,
water cleared of ice,
pump still working after repair.”

She puts down her pen,
tucks herself in for the night,
and as she drifts to sleep,
she thinks of him;

And she wonders,
does he ever,
think of her...

Comments about Dinner For One by Debra Coppinger Hill

  • (1/20/2005 11:12:00 PM)

    Just simply perfectly put, and written beautifuly. Reminds me of my best friend.....
    Theodora Onken

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Read poems about / on: water, sleep, sometimes, horse, rose, work

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 20, 2005

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