The Poetry of Here

When you’ve been doing something a long time, even if you love it, even if you love it for all the right reasons, you can fall into a routine that might feel sometimes like a rut. You forget to pay attention to the delights, to the glimmers, to the reasons you love it. Then along comes someone who reminds you that there is poetry everywhere here in this place and in what we do here. This season, that person was Holly. And so, in honor of that, I’m featuring a poem she wrote. Enjoy!

Meet out in the green beans, SE6

It was mid July when I first learned
that one of life’s greatest joys,
is snapping okra at the collar.

Down in the hollar, fog settles
into the valley like the bodies
of two lovers
And I am convinced,
That everything, and everyone,
looks best dressed up in the morning dew
From the fennel fronds, to me and you.

Mid morning, and we’re all out
in the green beans,
Talking about horoscopes and Hardee’s,
Origins and endings.

Discussing religion in all its forms,
because what’s more sacred than
the feel of dirt between your
fingers and sunlight on your skin.

I am drenched in summertime
abundance,
Dripping in the kind of sweat that
the body craves
That leaves behind nothing but
Salt and satisfaction.

Late afternoon light floods the farm,
and a part of me I never knew
was lost,
comes home again.

-Holly Agnew