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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Amber Waves

image courtesy Magpie Tales 72
Amber waves.
She leans out of the back window of the family truck as it pulls away from the farm for the last time and heads down the road. She's already said her goodbyes to the cows and the goats and the chickens but somehow she feels the need to say it to the fields as well.  So she waves.

Yesterday, as she was helping Mama pack the last of their things, she asked, "But what about the song, Mama? What will happen if we leave the farm?"
It took some time and some figuring, but finally Mama understood. She laughed, then gently explained that "amber" was just another word for yellow. Amber always had thought the song was about her, her family's farm--"Amber's waves of grain." She felt better knowing it wasn't. And worse.

As the truck picks up speed, the yellow and orange hues of the wheat fields blur together into a Van Gogh painting.
Amber waves.

submitted for Magpie Tales 72