The Fallow Time Poem by Laurence Overmire

In the fallow time
The leach of impurity from the soul’s
Dark soil
A harrow to the haunting
Stick, encrusted rock
Fragment of the past
Turned with a spade and, plowed under
Water draining down gullies of broken clay
Shaping and replenishing
New depths of mind rising
To surface with sun and rain…

The fallow time
The waiting time
Before the seed is dropped.


(Previously published in Tryst, Issue V, June 1,2003)