The Farmer’s Wife
Who knew you knew the story of corn
in your fifteen dollar lavender and lilac
floor length dress from Kohl’s that sweeps
across the floor of our one story ranch
style home and cinches just above your pregnant belly.
The old wive’s tell: take a piece of your hair,
string it through your engagement ring, hold
it over your ring finger. The first time it was still.
The second it swung back and forth. We gave
no name to the first proof of our love.
Thigh high by July you say of the small plants
in their orderly and innumerable rows. The first leaf,
the flag of emergence, will eventually die. Senescence,
it’s called.
11 thoughts on "The Farmer’s Wife"
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This is a beautiful, challenging poem that is not wrapped up neatly in a bow. The moment I was sure what it was, it escaped. What anchors the poem is the last line of the second stanza – then back to the corn, and talks of impermanence. There is romance and hope, and then the squarest look at life as it is. It’s beautiful brother.
The moment I was sure what it was, it escaped. I think you just put your finger right on the essence!
This is subtle and lovely. I read it as an allusion to a miscarriage prior to the current pregnancy. I love it.
What Manny and Chelsie said. A wonderfully subtle poem, open to different interpretations, but the mood is clear.
Oh lovely. “We gave no name to the first proof of our love” is so gentle and sad. But you did give this poem! And I’m glad you have. … And congrats by the way! Sending love from Virginia.
Such tenderness- loved it!
This is a great poem! By the way, I love your photo.
I came to say I love your photo also. I’ll just add, the flow of this is beautiful
The farmer’s wife–is it not she who truly feeds us all? A lovely portrait. Nice writing, Christopher.
The skill of finding just the right word
This is extraordinary. You capture the loss so beautifully.