Treasure Island

Del Awaredestroy


Turning Point


Through the garden gate
waited
steamy and rich
a freshly dumped
pile
of the best manure
in the county

leaning against the garden's
wooden
split
rail fence
was a well used cane
topped
with a wool cap
brought out of habit
from the longest season passed

as she turned in the Earth
on hands and knees
and he silently scooped
the sh*t into the soil
he again realized
that for the 50th consecutive year
they'd eat this horse sh*t later
when it had turned
into squash soup

once planted
they rode back
the farm house waited
and their livestock
chewed
on grasses
and next year's bounty

Submitted: Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 20, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Turning Point by Del Awaredestroy )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Fishing Reasons, Edgar Albert Guest
  2. The Gentle Hand Of Women Folks, Edgar Albert Guest
  3. The Disgrace Of Poverty, Edgar Albert Guest
  4. Neil Snow, Edgar Albert Guest
  5. The Limit, Edgar Albert Guest
  6. The Child World, Edgar Albert Guest
  7. The Toiler, Edgar Albert Guest
  8. Sacrifices, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. The Value Of A Telephone, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. My mind is not without fear.., veeraiyah subbulakshmi

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]