The sweet smell of the barn
begins the day of the farmer,
who tugs cow udders
as the orange sphere
makes the sky slowly blue.
His blue overalls become
soiled with white milk,
as the grey clouds become
brushed with orange and
dotted with white.
He pushes his oxen across
his fields of sweet corn,
never stooping to pick
an ear of Nature's barnyard
trough-laden breakfast.
I sleep 'till noon in summer.
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