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Thursday, April 24, 2008

Footprints on fertile mud

It is Avian choir
Accompanied with crickets
That ring and sing the loudness
Of farmers morning
The nothingness of fog
Brought uncertain squelch
On heel-deep mud to my boots
Careful not to disturb
Sleeping puddles of leeches
In my walk, time passed

The earth mud odors rise
Herons started days work
Fishing on Carabao backs
Ticks bloat of Carabao blood
Like pale berries succulent
Advent of another day
By the ray of golden sun
Glistening of golden seeds
Slowly is the fog undone
Busy farmers before me

6 Angelic comments:

Gerald Galindez said...

i was reflecting one morning with my regular mug of coffee..

i came to think of a farmers life...

in our backyard

justin said...

i enjoy your imagery. i'll visit often as well.

Gerald Galindez said...

well thank you justin...
~_^
i think we both have in common...

Noah The Great said...

:D

Gerald Galindez said...

I'm glad you like it noah...
thanks...

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