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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=498860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Farmer, Dying</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">for Hank and Nancy</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Seven thousand acres of grass have faded yellow<br>from his cough. These limp days, his anger,<br>legend forty years from moon to Stevensville,<br>lives on, just barely, in a Great Falls whore.<br>Cruel times, he cries, cruel winds. His geese roam<br>unattended in the meadow. The gold last leaves<br>of cottonwoods ride Burnt Fork creek away.<br>His geese grow fat without him. Same old insult.<br>Same indifferent rise of mountains south,<br>hunters drunk around the fire ten feet from his fence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What's killing us is something autumn. Call it<br>war or fever. You know it when you see it: flare.<br>Vine and fire and the morning deer come half<br>a century to sip his spring, there, at the far end<br>of his land, wrapped in cellophane by light.<br>What lives is what he left in air, definite,<br>unseen, hanging where he stood the day he roared.<br>A bear prowls closer to his barn each day.<br>Farmers come to watch him die. They bring crude offerings<br>of wine. Burnt Fork creek is caroling. He dies white<br>in final anger. The bear taps on his pane.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And we die silent, our last days loaded with the scream<br>of Burnt Fork creek, the last cry of that raging farmer.<br>We have aged ourselves to stone trying to summon<br>mercy for ungrateful daughters. Let's live him<br>in ourselves, stand deranged on the meadow rim<br>and curse the Baltic back, moon, bear and blast.<br>And let him shout from his grave for us.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Richard+Hugo">Richard Hugo</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=498860" data-title="Farmer, Dying de Richard Hugo" data-description="for Hank and Nancy

Seven thousand acres of grass have faded yellow
from his cough. These limp days, his anger,
legend forty years from moon to Stevensville,
lives on, just barely, in a Great Falls whore.
Cruel times, he cries, cruel winds. His ge..."></div>
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