Ridgely Torrence: The Son
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The Son

1875-1950


I heard an old farm-wife,
         Selling some barley,
Mingle her life with life
         And the name "Charley".

Saying, "The crop's all in,
         We're about through now;
Long nights will soon begin,
         We're just us two now.

Twelve bushels at sixty cents,
         It's all I carried --
He sickened making fence;
         He was to be married --

It feels like frost was near --
         His hair was curly.
The spring was late that year,
         But the harvest early."


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DayPoems Poem No. 1438



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