Ladies are bringing in squash,
tomatoes, from little outside plots; and Mo
has his baked beans ready for the barbeque
picnic on Monday, Labor Day.
They have lived to reap what they sowed.
The days are shorter now. Time to fill
an hour with kindness, patience
toward those ahead who are faltering.
I would gather Carol’s last tomatoes
for her if necessary. Beans I don’t do.
It meant something, in the old
subsistence years of harsher winters,
to assemble in the meetinghouse and sing,
“All is safely gathered in.”
Heads nodded, when the pastor assured
his congregation that one day soon
they would be the harvest.
Seven-time Pushcart Prize nominee Russell Rowland writes from New Hampshire’s Lakes Region, where he has judged high-school Poetry Out Loud competitions. His work appears in Except for Love: New England Poets Inspired by Donald Hall (Encircle Publications), and Covid Spring, Vol. 2 (Hobblebush Books). His latest poetry book, Magnificat, is available from Encircle Publications.
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