Heirloom
Beyond the highway lie shapes and textures,
colorful patchworks of fencing and fields
laid out in patterns on the passing land,
a wheat stalk here and rows of cotton there,
open spaces and skies with walking clouds
threading their downpours like a pioneer
seamstress stitching nine-patches and pinwheels
with scraps of fabric for her crazy quilts.
In the distance, a homestead hardly moves,
its stand of trees hemmed in by blankets of gold
that comfort the tales of its ancestors
who speak of survival and resilience,
of support in the harvests and hardships,
of rugged landscapes and starry skies,
of the communal nature of farming,
all woven into this fabric of a life
and a history and a heritage
that passes by in the blink of an eye.
Author’s note: This poem describes a view of the landscape beyond a highway, where fields and fences create a patchwork pattern across the land. I am writing to compare this landscape to quilts that pioneer women once made. I am highlighting the connection between farming, nature, and the history of the land. In the end of the poem I am highlighting a distant homestead, surrounded by golden fields, symbolizing the resilience and communal spirit of those who have lived and worked in these lone locations for centuries. The poem reflects how quickly this rich tapestry of life and history passes.
“It is not easy to be a pioneer - but oh, it is fascinating! I would not trade one moment, even the worst moment, for all the riches in the world.”
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