The Family Farm (imitation of the Aunts)

The Family Farm (imitation of the Aunts)

By Abhishek Raol

I like it when we all get together

And talk in voices that are respectful

Like wild apple trees in a farm we grow

Under the influence of tradition

Yet each tree a different individual

Protected by the farm away from harm

Together we sprout to produce the best

And on these occasions, we bring our fruit

We share our apples, our stories and tales

Listen to the elders and their wisdom

They shape our morals, what’s right from what’s wrong

“Every apple tree has some rotten fruit”

Grandpa tree always says “But some of our

Apples are meant to fall first on the ground

They plant our seeds and enrich the soil well”

Every tree in our farm is so different

Some thin, thick, short, tall, wide, leafy or not

Every single apple that comes from us

Has a different taste and shape and texture

Each one as good as the next and better

Than the last, we take pride in quality

Every tree nurtured so well and with care

Our parents made sure we grew straight and tall

Teaching to reach our branches to the sky

And during the winter, we shed our leaves

Through the hard times we still stand strong and tall

Sharing great legends of trees of our past,

Horror stories of logging companies

Anything to entertain and inspire

To up hold our great tradition on this

Family Farm.

The Aunts

BY JOYCE SUTPHEN

I like it when they get together

and talk in voices that sound

like apple trees and grape vines,

and some of them wear hats

and go to Arizona in the winter,

and they all like to play cards.

They will always be the ones

who say “It is time to go now,”

even as we linger at the door,

or stand by the waiting cars, they

remember someone—an uncle we

never knew—and sigh, all

of them together, like wind

in the oak trees behind the farm

where they grew up—a place

I remember—especially

the hen house and the soft

clucking that filled the sunlit yard.