Since it is rice harvest season I decided to revisit my personal essay. Now, I will move on from my personal essay.
From dawn to dust, he walks the lonely fields, each day
With his shovel over his shoulder.
He checks for thing astray in the fields.
Those whom recognized him remarks,
He hasn’t grown old since the day,
they first got together with him.
He, still wears his old straw cowboy hat
Blue faded long sleeves shirt and pants.
He still wears his green hip boots.
To walk in the murky water of the rice field
Now, he does not speak to many.
Plenty, have spoken with him in the predawn hours.
From words, He wanders in the distance rice fields.
They recognize his shovel over his shoulders.
Others caught sight of him driving an old John Deere tractor with plow,
in a field but disappears in their presence.
The only visible sign of him, being here is a single distant
sound of a John Deere tractor’s steam whistle in twilight sky.
No one understands why he walks the fields.
If they knew, they will shed a tear.
Someday, his journey for his family’s crest
will be over for him.
Until, then he never rest.
Haunted Fields ©V.Rose Demet™2013
After searching for photo I decided to share one of my favorite photo of my Dad.
Have a nice weekend 🙂