The God of Our Farm Had Blades

It scared me to the bone

Poet Todd Boss
Filmmaker Tom Jacobsen

The God of Our Farm Had Blades

and a rudder. All our acres
begged its pardon. Merest
breezes made its rusty flower
turn and whine and shudder.
                                                     
Its wooden arm a weathered
stump, the god of our farm
no longer pumped the well
that once it lorded power over.
 
It belonged to another order.
On silent nights in summer,
my windows open, many times
its vocal powers found me deep
 
in dreams and hauled me up.
Unearthly alarm! what ache!
How the vane would groan,
the rotor churn, and with what
 
moan when a good gust came!
It scared me to the bone, as if
some inner tower of my own,
for an unknown water, yearned.
 
 
Todd Boss

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Poem ©2009 Todd Boss, all rights reserved. Used by permission of the author and publisher W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. Film ©2009 Motionpoems, Inc., all rights reserved.

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