Farmer’s Autumn Death

I was a kid when I sat on your knee,
riding through bumpy fields on your tractor.
I giggled with anticipation and fear,
holding the steering wheel.
I admired you.
I measured what I did to who you were.
Which way to turn, I didn’t know.
Still don’t.
An obituary I read over morning coffee
explained you’d departed.
We’d left on terms opposite the same location.
The dreams of you teary-eyed at my wedding fell
through like plans for you and me dried to autumn leaves;
your knees beneath me swept the ground
right from under me.
I’m drowning in regret.
A phone call with your stern voice gave no indication
you’d soon slip off into an autumn afternoon.

(© 2022 AC)

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