By Maddy Price
Dew slowly drips off of the sun kissed cherry tomatoes,
rooster crows,
old man sighs,
because he knows its another day.
Another day of work, another day to live.
His horses, cows, pigs, sheep all remind him of why he is still here.
To see the wonderful meadows, mountains, seas,
breath in the fresh air in one day at a time,
not knowing what’s coming next just living,
working,
farming.
“To live is a beautiful thing” he says to himself,
but the question burning inside his crippled heart,
why don’t we know the meaning though?
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