Bill Simmons

The Old Farmer

Poem by Bill Simmons

He climbs up on his tracter
Starts up his henry ford
Mows some in his pasture
For a while til he gets bored

He parks it in his barn
He then feeds all his hens
He is just one lone farmer
Doing the best he can

He picks up his cane
That is leaning on a post
Walks up to the house
The home that he loved most

There is no one at the door
It used to be his wife
She would meet him with open arms
She was so part of his life

But now he is alone
She has passed on
He grabs his rocking chair
Sets it out on the lawn

Then he rocks a spell
Until it gets dark
Until he sees the moon
Surrounded by the stars

Then he calls her name
And looks into the sky
This country farmer has his pain
Alone in the night

Then the tears fall
And he breaks down and cries
He can now feel the hurt
Through the day he has tried to hide

The very next day
He picks up his walking cane
He mows some in his pasture
Like he did yesterday.

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Read poems about / on: alone, house, moon, pain, home, dark, sky, night, star

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 3, 2004