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Ode to 80 Acres
by Mark Maxey
The grieving commenced upon 80 acres with the mourning wife and daughter
cold dark nights the wind a howling rocking her fears and daughter asleep
Tears shed in the darkness only added to the value of that plot of land
Troubled soil troubled minds would someday birth some new found joy
Thanksgiving a time to be thankful ‘cept this year it was met with pain
The long walk to the road mixed with salty tears and dust
Memories that faded with each passing day
Her lineman husband last bequeath were these 80 acres
Country roads in the middle of nowhere was her solace
Left alone to deal with the pain and grief
Raising her daughter and instilling those fears
That one day would be true of her oilman husband
Another lay dead upon those 80 acres
I myself a grandson and nephew would bare my soul
Upon those 80 acres
Some would say I died there too
But that’s another story for another time
Two widow women living on those damned 80 acres
Some fruit did yield but many weeds grew amongst them too
Overgrown hopes with virulent themes intertwined upon those
Who lived on those damned 80 acres
11/29/2014 Posted on 11/29/2014
Copyright © 2024 Mark Maxey
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/01/14 at 08:06 PM Man, there is a lot of pain and suffering in this poem, generational and deep. 80 acres is plenty of land to feel alone or thrive, a gift or a burden. Much is said and unshared here that makes this compelling and significant. Thanks for this. |
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