Counting On . . .

     I was the oldest, the "responsible" one -- when I wanted to sleep in, my mother said, "Your father -- and our farm -- are counting on you."  Here is a bit of my poetic reaction:

     COUNTING ON

        One
        Two   two
        Three   three   three
        Four   four   four   four
        Five   five   five   five   five
        That's how it was growing --
        growing up
        on the farm
        milking cows
        gathering eggs
        scattering grains of corn
        for hens --
        counting   counting   counting . . .
        counting on.

Here is a link to several previous blog posts with poems related to COUNTING.