Five Farm Haiku

gleaming steel
plow blade turns the dirt, but
dirt taxes the blade

 

a weed pulled
in due time, beats one hundred
plucked too late

 

stalk stubble,
the haggard mourning face
of the field

 

mile high crazy quilt
viewed by climbing passengers,
brooding nature’s mood

 

when light is short,
but field days are marathon
harvest gloom

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