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Surveyor and Farmer (Free verse) by Dovina

He hikes all day in hardwoods, transit on his shoulder, steel tape dragging long. I trudge alone in corn, sack upon my hip, plucking ears like days before. His weariness from thinking, packing, sweat, mine from picking, shooking, heat. Eyes closed, half asleep. Small squeeze, a swell. Four eyelids open, four lip corners rise. Til next time, sleep well.

zodiac 22-Aug-05/11:40 PM
Boring in the extreme,
Wishing you'd get to the point,
Seeming a bit lazy, actually,
creative or striking phrasings shunned,
Pants sagging shamefully,
Overused in bad poetry,
Easy to fit in nice bad-poetic lines,
All your sentences basically simple-present main clauses,
Then long strings of adjective phrases,
Meaning ALL of your sentences.
Not agreeing subjects and verbs,
Seeming in stanza two like the sack is plucking corn,
Idly wondering if you see it yet.




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