NaPoWriMo Day 11, Prompt: Choose an object or place and end the poem with an abstract line.
Great, Great Aunt Ada’s Iroquois Farm
Standing on the wooden fence
I take my eyes off of the huge pig in the mud.
The smell of farm lives up my nose.
I turn to hear my great, great-aunt Ada yell, “Willy!”
Wearing her kitchen apron,
over her dress, her nylons too thick for this heat,
with her hands placed on her hips, she means business.
My brother comes out onto the porch and yells for the dog too.
But, his voice doesn’t quite carry over the land.
The stone house, with the wrap around veranda,
sits before the field, where the rusty-red tractor leans.
And a worn path that leads to where the cattle are milked,
no longer by hand.
Uncle Joseph shows me how it is done.
That other farm smell also lives up my nose
making my stomach lurch,
when the milk bottle is set onto the kitchen table before me,
with the heavy cream, near overflowing on the top.
I’m allergic to dairy.