{"id":4542,"date":"2024-01-25T10:43:08","date_gmt":"2024-01-25T15:43:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/?p=4542"},"modified":"2024-01-25T10:43:10","modified_gmt":"2024-01-25T15:43:10","slug":"a-poem-for-a-thursday-252","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/2024\/01\/25\/a-poem-for-a-thursday-252\/","title":{"rendered":"A Poem for a Thursday #252"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Photo by Christian Widell<\/a> on Unsplash<\/a><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
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Joyce Sutphen grew up on a farm in Minnesota. She served as Minnesota’s poet laureate from 2011-2021. Sutphen worked as a professor at Gustavus Adolphus College. Her poetry has won several awards and has been featured on Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie Home Companion. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My father's farm is an apple blossomer.\nHe keeps his hills in dandelion carpet\n and weaves a lane of lilacs between the rose\nand the jack-in-the-pulpits.\nHis sleek cows ripple in the pastures.\nThe dog and purple iris\nkeep watch at the garden's end.\n\nHis farm is rolling thunder,\na lightning bolt on the horizon.\nHis crops suck rain from the sky\nand swallow the smoldering sun.\nHis fields are oceans of heat,\nwhere waves of gold\nbeat the burning shore.\n\nA red fox\npauses under the birch trees,\na shadow is in the river's bend.\nWhen the hawk circles the land,\nmy father's grainfields whirl beneath it.\nOwls gather together to sing in his woods,\nand the deer run his golden meadow.\n\nMy father's farm is an icicle,\na hillside of white powder.\nHe parts the snowy sea,\nand smooths away the valleys.\nHe cultivates his rows of starlight\nand drags the crescent moon\nthrough dark unfurowed fields. \n\nThe Farm\nJoyce Sutphen<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Joyce Sutphen grew up on a farm in Minnesota. She served as Minnesota’s poet laureate from 2011-2021. Sutphen worked as a professor at Gustavus Adolphus College. Her poetry has won several awards and has been featured on Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie Home Companion. My father’s farm is an apple blossomer. He keeps his hills in dandelion carpet and weaves a lane of lilacs between the rose and the jack-in-the-pulpits. His sleek cows ripple in the pastures. The dog and purple iris keep watch at the garden’s end. His farm is rolling thunder, a lightning bolt on the horizon. His crops suck rain from the sky and swallow the smoldering sun. His fields are oceans of heat, where waves of gold beat the burning shore. A red fox pauses under the birch trees, a shadow is in the river’s bend. When the hawk circles the land, my father’s grainfields whirl beneath it. Owls gather together to sing in his woods, and the deer run his golden meadow. My father’s farm is an icicle, a hillside of white powder. He parts the snowy sea, and smooths away the valleys. He cultivates his rows of starlight and drags the crescent moon through dark unfurowed fields. The Farm Joyce Sutphen<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4543,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4542","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem-for-a-thursday"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4542","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4542"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4542\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4544,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4542\/revisions\/4544"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4543"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4542"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4542"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.holdsuponhappiness.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4542"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}