The harvest caravan is passing by,
The men in tractor-trucks, pursuing yields …
Across the miles of plains, their trade to ply
And reap the golden grain in others’ fields.
Like proud behemoths in a touring show,
The big machines upon the flatbeds ride,
The amber seas of wholesome seed to mow,
With solemn stoicism, firmly tied.
Each big-wheeled combine takes a special seat
Adapted to the asymmetric stock;
The gath’ring-head that makes this tool complete
Employs a diff’rent trailer in the flock.
They move along, cyclopean and bold,
The hopper-bottoms rumbling as they pass;
And grain-carts, towed in tandem with the fold,
Are not less worthy for their lesser mass.
The custom harvesters are rolling through,
Like modern sculptures, tractors riding tall,
As garish floats that publicize a view;
The semis haul their loads to meet the call.
A task ensemble is this soft parade—
A skilled and able worker ev’ry man;
But it’s Americana being made …
A show of pride, the harvest caravan!
r. nuñez, 7/2016
About the Creator
r. nuñez
I am a shamanic priest who loves to write stories, poetry, and songs. Retired, but still helping people, animals, and the planet.
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