Farmer’s boots with mud all over
Fencing put up in the rain
Post-hole digging is tiring
Like digging a grave
A long day makes the whiskey quicker
No one looks anyone else in the eye
Nerves are half broken; bones don’t need to be
Drink up and leave
Horses to feed and still the evening chores
Which were always waiting
Children gleeful but careful; help where you can
Do not upset equilibrium
Tomorrow will bring whatever Saturdays bring
Men cleanup for dinner
Not much talk of the day
Wagon will be driven to town
The list is already written
Mother feels good except
tomorrow it rains again and will not stop;
day after day for over two weeks –mud—mud;
wetness and shortages not planned on
Children are happy; no school –play in the wet
Stay happy; work hard; don’t irritate
This is their life; sometimes good
Mostly difficult; now and then bad
They were secure in the knowing
This is how life was; plans succeeded or failed
The plains were not all bad
There were peaceful times
Secure times; sometimes fires wiped them out
But to their credit they emerged again
Too strong to lay own; too bright to
Remember the bad
They grew and prospered; built new schools
New towns and churches
They knew life and its meanings
They lived it, until it finally came to an end
Those left went on; they knew the answers
The rules of survival were obeyed
Stanski
September 13, 2020 ^
Steve Haarman 