The Farmer

David Anderson

Woodford, New South Wales

Australia

Nature can be such a bastard, to a farmer working the land
Even with modern equipment, when your grandfather tilled it by hand
This farmer was proud of his son, ‘It’s yours when I’m under the ground’
Then his son said he soon would be leaving, for the Big Smoke he surely was bound
So the farmer picked up his rifle and said, ‘There’s some lambs that I have to slay,
They’re all skin and bone from no water, they’ll not last another hot day’
So with old Blue, his loyal dog he’d driven, to a place he held dear by a stream
Recalling how often he’d gone there, with his grandad to fish and to dream
To hear stories of past wars and famines, and floods and the fear of Big Red
Then they’d carry a fish home to dinner, to the farm house, and then off to bed
He’d dream of that day in the future, when he too could toil on this farm
With a loving family beside him, to work for and shelter from harm
When that day came he couldn’t defend them, when the bushfire caught them outside
He found them beneath a wet blanket, the kids safe, but his wife had died
Protecting her kids with her body, so scorched and burnt by the heat
With young Blue cowering under beside them, licking his black blistered feet
Now he lifted the gun to his forehead, the trigger poised ready to press
Hesitation then quickly flowed through him, at the thought of this cruel bloody mess
His children would see when they found him, the sight would cause them to grieve
As to why their father had done this, was it his son’s decision to leave?
When some drops from above broke his musing, and he gazed up above to the sky
Where black clouds were crying of promise, answered prayers to end the Big Dry
With a laugh and dance he remembered, how his sweet wife Kathleen had once said
‘You were meant to look after this wide land, until the day you are dead’
So with Blue he drove back home contented, with his wipers scudding on high
Heaven knows if this rain could continue, it could save his farm from the Dry
Then at night as he sat by the fire, while his son was packing his case
His daughter sat down beside him, a country girl filled with such grace
She told him to worry no further, that she too was heading from home
University study was her goal, and with Blue he would not be alone
Within a few years she would come back, to help him and be at his side
A degree in agricultural studies, would be nailed on the wall with much pride
For she too loved this land he was farming, and to her too, it was always a dream
To farm here with her future family, then the farmer’s face swelled in a beam
Of how his dream was ensured now, he’d neglected his daughter for sure
Now the farm may continue to prosper, in the family’s name evermore
These dark clouds we fear as foreboding, sometimes fill us with such deep despair
Had dropped rain of hope down upon him, filled gently of promise to share
From above where Kathleen was abiding, saving him from a selfish misuse
Of a grand life that still lay before him, a life he should never abuse
With his daughter’s head warm on his shoulder, and old Blue spread out by his feet
Slumber soon fell upon this sweet trio, as they slept by the log’s restful heat.

Bio: David says that it was while watching Landline on the ABC TV a few weeks back that a story of suicide by farmers on the lad prompted him to write this poem of hope.