Some Days: A Poem

Some days my job I hate
 
 And I feel second rate
 
 On days when the frigid cold
 
 Makes my young body old
 
 Frozen hoses, iced up tanks, extra hay
 
 All conspire to add hours to my day
 
 Meetings cause me to sputter
 
 And pain makes me mutter

And on top of extra hours of work
 
 Mother Nature becomes a jerk
 
 I find the old hog dying
 
 Beside where she is lying
 
 A wall of ice I must erect
 
 So that no emotions I detect
 
 It keeps me from coming undone
 
 For Death’s lieutenant I become

As an icy wind there blows
 
 I pray for an end of lows
 
 But farm work is never gone
 
 And so I must march on
 
 For the others have need
 
 So I water and feed
 
 With the last bale of hay
 
 Finally comes the end of day

I pause on my way home
 
 To let my mind roam
 
 My breath I finally catch
 
 With the bull I play fetch
 
 I as watch him play
 
 My hate melts away
 
 So I thank heaven above
 
 I that I have a job I love

written by Polly Festa

#farmwork #livestock #poetry #winter