Plowman's Song

Turn under, plow,
My trouble;
Turn under griefs
And stubble.

Turn mouse's nest,
Gnawing years;
Old roots up
For new love's tears.

Turn, plow, the clods
For new thunder.
Turn under, plow,
Turn under.

by Raymond Knister

Comments (4)

Turn, plow, the clods For new thunder. Turn under, plow, Turn under.
'Turn under, plow, My trouble; Turn under griefs And stubble.' what wonderful lines, loved them, so much wisdom stems from watching listening interacting with nature, when time accumulated in nature sows wisdom seeds
Beautiful poem. Don't know if the poet meant stumble instead of stubble on the last line of the 1st stanza.
Succinct, sincere... we all feel this way at times.