After the cutting
before the baling
a working field
waits for the late harvest
Narrow rows of green,
turning to gray,
course over the land
After the passing of the scythe,
the reaper’s work
Hungry cows in the dairy barnyard
still munch and mull the September grasses
Soon they will know the bite of winter
when their feed
is this autumnal fuel
September 23, 2005 12:28
(Raymond A. Foss)
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Based on Topics: Work & Career Poems, Winter PoemsBased on Keywords: bite, september, waits, rows, grasses, cutting, scythe, fuel, autumnal, reaper, munch