Friday, May 28, 2010
This week I am visiting the family farm in Bear Creek, North Carolina. The hay was just mowed - leaving the ground looking too bare - like a severe haircut, or a newly-shaved face! to the folks here, but over in the sheep meadow the grass is still tall, rendering the sheep but subtle grass partings as they make their way through, munching.
I'm on the border of the property - in the field over is a stand of trees that draws me, that reminds me of this Emily Dickinson poem:
Four Trees - opon a solitary Acre -
Or Order, or Apparent Action -
The Sun - opon a Morning meets them -
The Wind -
No nearer Neighbor - have they -
But God -
The Acre gives them - Place -
They - Him - Attention of Passer by -
Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply -
Or Boy -
What Deed is Their's unto the General Nature -
They severally - retard - or further -
I send this week's rite to Julie, my spring flower child sister, in the state of her birth, on her birthday, with all my love.