The Silos of Cortland County

 

The Silos of Cortland County

 

During the Pandemic isolation,

Just for somewhere to go,

He took pictures of silos;

He wanted me to know.

 

  He traveled all the county roads--

The ones that he could find

In search of the silo structures—

Back to another time.

 

Some came in ceramic tile,

Deep orange against the sky.

 They were often next to barns,

  abandoned bales of hay nearby.

 

Far out in the wilderness

A Harvestore stands alone

   monument to another time;

A lifestyle now long gone.

 

A rusted old tractor

Silent now, no more complaints

Stands guard at a wooden silo,

With its skeletal remains.

 

Beautiful scenes surround them,

Rolling hills; skies so blue;

  an occasional cow you may still see, 

Though only just a few.

 

Through the middle of one silo

a single tree makes its home.

The monuments still persist

though the farms themselves are gone.

 

Ivy climbs an abandoned silo,

Tendrils reaching for the sky.

The barns fall, the silos stand.

Ancient reminders of a time gone by.

 

 

By Nancy Rehkugler

 

 

Flowers and Politicians

     

    I spend a lot of time with my various flower gardens during the spring and summer months.   I love every stage of the flowers development,  from relishing the buds emerging from their winter's sleep,  all the way to removing all the dead flowers that are past their time.

     One thing is very clear to me when I tend my flowers.  When I remove the dead heads,  it allows for many newer blossoms to spring forth and come to life.

    Years ago, I remember that we were driving through national parks out west.  At the time,  there had been a number of wildfires that had swept through the area.   Yes, it had killed a lot of trees,  but enough time had passed so that a whole new generation of infant trees had emerged from the ground, now exposed to the light.   The older trees had kept the baby trees from being able to receive the sunlight they needed to grow and thrive.

    This year in particular, due to the way politics is going,  I would say that I can see a clear connection between gardening and politicians.   The old ones who have been there a really long time and are in their 80's or 90's really need to be removed to make room for new life, new ideas, new blood.

    I believe that could be as life-giving for our country as it is life-giving for my marigolds and daisies!  Those not removed use up all the nutrients and space that should be there for new flowers.  

    Perhaps the best solution is term limits!  I'm all for that!

    

   

After 21 Elementary Students Died Recently

Poetry Page

       Our local newspaper is looking for submissions of Poetry for the Poetry page.   I am very much a poet.   When I look at my poetry collection, as usual, there is not very much there appropriate for publication.  My poems tend to be either very spiritual/religious,  or else deeply personal.    Here is an example.  I am sure they would not want to publish it!!

                                                         Some Will Be Angels                                  

 

Some spirits will be angels, 

angels of assorted kinds.

I do wonder what spirits do,

when eternal life is on my mind.

 

There are surely angels 

of the guardian kind,

who keep us in line and keep us safe,

when we stray or veer away.

 

Some may be messengers, who deliver

a Word which the Lord sends

to direct our path

toward what God’s intends.

 

Some angels will be singers,

—praising God night and day.

(though there is no night there,

for the Light of Glory fills the place.)

 

In the world of the spirit,

I long to sing with the Heavenly Host.

(When I wonder what angels do, 

that’s the part I want the most.)

 

It is not a choir, I shouldn’t think,  

With auditions for alto or bass,

but chosen according to our love of God

and the steadiness of our faith.

 

Some will be companions, 

who guide us so we’re not alone;

they take us from death to life,

and keep us company as we go home.

 

Some will be angels who walk with us

through the valley of the shadow of death,--

sometimes sending us back, 

when our earthly end is not due yet.

 

Some angels are our loved ones

Whose presence we perceive.

 They wait for us in eternal life;

this I do believe.

                                                                        

 

                                                                                                By  Nancy Rehkugler