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lily-nurmiPoems
A certain peace befalls us As we stroll through these fields Where the grass grows so high I've been here before It's where I played as a child 3 weeks every summer I still smell the scent of the barn That held home To 16 cows Here they cut off the horns And feed them hormones But not where I come from Their warm coat colored brown and white I still hear the lady call them out Her voice echoes Through the hallways of my memory. Here we stopped being The girls from the city Each august it was time to harvest We carried the pitch forks In our small hands To the fields where the tractors Slowly drove by Skin scratched open From the insect bites The burden of hay allergy But we never loved it less We caught mise in the barn Build beds of hay blocks Swam in the lakes And took long walks Toward the end of the cow's labor With our bare hands We aided the calf in to this world. And watched their first steps And offered them their first milk We sighed from boredom And screamed of exitement There where the grass grows so high.
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Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 5:44 AM UTC
Where the grass grows so high
A certain peace befalls us As we stroll through these fields Where the grass grows so high I've been here before It's where I played as a child 3 weeks every summer I still smell the scent of the barn That held home To 16 cows Here they cut off the horns And feed them hormones But not where I come from Their warm coat colored brown and white I still hear the lady call them out Her voice echoes Through the hallways of my memory. Here we stopped being The girls from the city Each august it was time to harvest We carried the pitch forks In our small hands To the fields where the tractors Slowly drove by Skin scratched open From the insect bites The burden of hay allergy But we never loved it less We caught mise in the barn Build beds of hay blocks Swam in the lakes And took long walks Toward the end of the cow's labor With our bare hands We aided the calf in to this world. And watched their first steps And offered them their first milk We sighed from boredom And screamed of exitement There where the grass grows so high.
Never take the country out of me
lily-nurmi
Written by
lily-nurmi
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 5:44 AM UTC
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