Farmer’s Lament
She milked the cow,
I rode the plow;
She planted seeds,
I pulled the weeds;
She birthed the lambs,
I sheared the rams;
She cleaned our house,
I hunted grouse.
Then, Christmas Day,
Tending the sow,
She passed away.
I’m selling now.
—Don Kimball, Concord, NH
His poetry has appeared in The Formalist, The Lyric, The Blue Unicorn, and various other journals and anthologies, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.