Life’s Old Bones

Charlie was a farmer all his life. It was a small farm; about a hundred acres. He milked cows every day until he was seventy years old. It was a good life, but much of that was gone now. His wife died a year ago in April. His only daughter married a man who worked in the technology field. The only alternative was to sell the farm.

On auction day, folks came from miles around. Tractors and implements sold quickly. The thirty milk cows did as well. The farm sold for more than a half a million dollars.

All that seemed insignificant now, as he stared at the shell of a dilapidated barn, out the window of the rest home. Charlie thought to himself, “Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy, One day I will collapse, just like that old barn.”

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Linda asked us to write a flash fiction of exactly 144 words, using a line from a poem, Spring Azures from the book Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. The line is… ‘Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy.’

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com then click on Mr. Linkey to read more stories.

37 thoughts on “Life’s Old Bones

  1. Your touching piece tugged at my heart. 💗 I know we can’t stop progress, but it has been sad (for me) to see farmland and working farms become sprawling suburbs in AZ. 😭 I own a small poster, that was used to advertise the sell of my great grandparents’ farm in Iowa many years ago. The poster is safely stored, but when I first looked at it, it made me sad to see their life reduced to line items, to be sold to strangers at an auction.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Sadly it happens over and over again. My uncle had a similar situation. He had two daughters and neither wanted to continue farming so the farm was sold. He died of a heart attack within a year!
      Thank you so much for sharing your story!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. The image goes so well with the story here. Sadly, far too true for many farmers who worked the land that was handed down to them for generations…only to succomb to the powers of big farming and have to sell. I remember when we lived in Iowa, going to some of the estate sales. I’m afraid, in my younger days, I was far too interested in picking up a good antique piece of furniture to consider the feelings of the person having to sell. Well told here. Use of line is excellent.

    Liked by 2 people

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