A Call for Thunder
by Becky Parker
“Let us not forget that the cultivation of the earth is the most important labor of man. When tillage begins, other arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of human civilization.” Daniel Webster
Corn husks lay strewn on the ground, grainy shadows of a paltry harvest. The pragmatic farmer knelt under the scorching Prairie sun, and reached deeply into the soil with calloused hands; heart daring to hope. His breath caught as a withered worm, mixed with dust clung to the crevice of his fingers. Blue eyes scanned the windless horizon, searching for rain. A gaggle of malnourished hens, pecked near the leaning barn that housed an abandoned threshing machine, silent, waiting to reap a crop that may never come in. Dusk fell upon the wilted fields, with the only thunder burgeoning, crows and bats, who vied to devour the cacophony of insects, which plunder the flesh and itch the profundity of the soul.
Becky Parker
Becky Parker resides in Tennessee. Her works can be found in Spirit Fire Review, Agape Review, Sweety Cat Press, Yellow Mama, Appalachia Bare, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, the Rye Whiskey Review, Pulse, the Green Shoe Sanctuary, Sequoyah Cherokee River Journal, Amaranth Journal, Spire Light, Avocet, Mackenzie’s Publication, Salvation South, Heart of Flesh, Mildred Haun Review, and North Dakota Quarterly She is the founder of Briar Haus Writes.
Comments
Evocative and beautifully written as the dry, cracked soil that is circling us all!
A fine piece, Becky! I can feel the lament, not only of the farmer but of the land itself, too.
Thank you Becky, for this soulful connection to the earth. Such a fundamental truth expressed in the cultivation, both physical of food, and of the spirit.