Poppies in the Wheat
Old Man Counts
Last Haiku

road from mountain to sea

I know all the villages between
stations of the heart
where hunger to rest life and love

olive tree and vineyard
cling to dust of old bone

summer fields ripen corn
ugly season between green and gold

my love like the poppies splashed red
weed in work of the wheat

peasants do not harvest wildflower
no bread for family

still for a time
the wild poppies grow

AuthorClaude Freeman
2018-08-21T17:23:57+00:00 October 1st, 1999|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 10-11|0 Comments