Into The Grain

Poem by Russ Riendeau

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into the grain he bent.

weathered, bronzed, worn thin from grind of stone and steel.

hands bent, twisted, digits frozen in shapes of early letter alphabets--a rusted cable found guilty of violence.

shoulders broadened, lowered, creak closer to soil tilled to perfection.

trailing his gait, distinct scents of diesel and livestock, sorghum sweat and leather

a morning biscuit crumb captured by a deep crevice near the jaw.

how this man longed to vanish from the rows of tassel and till; vanish from beams of sun wearing him down; to vanish from actions patina-ed rote. 

what lies beyond these fields? what life to be fashioned and honed past row-upon-row?

what tools to pack? what inventory to discard?

the farm creaks, loudly enough to startle, suspend what-could be.

crops to attend, hooves to monitor, rows to walk.

into the grain he bent.

Russ Riendeau is an artist, composer, TEDx Talks presenter and behavioral scientist who writes about psychology-related topics, ever exploring ideas around creative process. You can view more of his work at russriendeau.com

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