They stood on the porch,
Eyes over the land.
The young and old man,
Making their plans.

The old man spoke out
Between his long spits.
Tobacco and words
Spilt from his lips.

“I reckon I’ll cut
Those trees over there.
They’re blocking the view
From Grandmother’s chair.

Cut them by the fence
A year before last.
That summer was hot;
And burnt all my grass.”

The young man chirped in,
His eyes all aglow.
He looked on the field,
And wanted to sow.

“How bout a garden
In place of those trees?
There’s plenty of sun
And plenty of breeze.

We’ll grow tomatoes
The size of a shoe.
Taters and carrots
We’ll put in a stew.

We’ll build us a cabin,
Right sturdy and nice.
Drink lemonade that’s
Heavy with ice.”

The old man exhaled
And shuffled his feet.
He pulled off his hat,
And moved to his seat.

He said with a grin,
“My bones are too sore.
The view will do fine;
I’ve gardened before.”

 

Carter Davis Johnson is an English major and cadet at the Virginia Military Institute. He grew up in Roanoke, Virginia.

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6 Responses

  1. James A. Tweedie

    If a poem tells a story and the poet tells it well, then I’m all for it. I suppose this means that I’m all for this poem. Well told!

    Reply
  2. David Watt

    Although I have a personal preference for perfect rhyme, the story is well told and the humorous twist appeals to me.

    Reply

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