by Mark Hurley

Created on: November 12, 2009

stubble field

looking out over the fields

now bare except for the stubble

corn soybeans and wheat

the fall wind blows the dust

i see my face in those fields

like the five day old stubble

except this is my reward yearly

i sigh and hit my hat hard

against my rusty bottomed jeans

shaking rust fodder and dust

one final time as i lay the fields

to rest over this long hard winter

coming maybe i will shave tonight

i thought as i grinned to myself

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