Okay, I have to admit today was not the best day for me. It’s been thirteen years since my Dad passed away and I still miss him. Maybe I always will miss him on this day. (That was the day everything turned upside down.)
My Dad use to get up at the crack of Dawn, with a cup of coffee in his hand to watch the sun rise. He would then go into the vegetable garden and pick a full bowl vegetables(Cucumbers and tomatoes). By the evening there was more cucumbers and tomatoes to pick. He had a green thumb.
Anyway, after looking thought my very short essay on Dedication to A Rice Farmer. I decided to rewrite the essay one final time. Before placing the essay in a folder. Maybe in the near future I might do something with this essay.
A Rice Farmer
Each morning and evening, he walks the quiet rice fields, with his shovel over his shoulder. He checks the fields for overflows, leaks and runoff.
Those whom seen him says, he hasn’t aged since the day they first met him. He, still wears his old straw cowboy hat, faded blue long sleeves shirt and jeans. Of course, he still wears his green hip boots. To walk in the muddy water of the rice fields.
Now a days he doesn’t speak to many. Maybe to those whom seen him in the early morning hours.
From what people told me. He walks in the distance rice fields. They know it’s him by his shovel over his shoulders. Other seen a John Deere tractor plowing a abandon rice field and vanished as they got near the field. The only sign is the distance sound of a John Deere tractor fading away in the sunset.
©V. ROSE DEMET ™2013
Okay, I wanted to make this essay intriguing with a little sadness and a haunting feeling.