Classic Poem

She stands there looking
Grass growing in fields at her feet
The smell of dung wafts through the air
A pitchfork stabbed into blackened soil
Her blue eyes innocent and wise
Ask questions from a mislaid book

But I

Cannot answer
Sermons have no meaning here
Where fences cleave the world in two
A man emerges from the rear
Dressed in black
Hat beard and stern
Grumbled words
She must obey
Turning at the door
A quick glance
Her eyes to mine
A soft goodbye

And she is gone...

He stands there looking
No riddles in the forbidding darkness of his stare
And I must leave
The graveled road
Stretches before me
Miles to go
‘Neath an open sky.