The day after harvest: foot sore – hands blistered,
The grain store at bursting, the haystacks a-twisted;
The family awoke early, promised lustrous hazy morn,
After breakfast they sauntered through cleared fields of corn,
To the orchard meandering, basket in hand,
Picking up apples reclining ripe on the land;
Lambent sun aloft, blessing happy endeavour,
The family bathed in warm contentment, imbibing the weather,
The children played games in the lush grass pasture,
To and fro’ they ran with much raucous laughter,
The parents at ease surveying the scene,
What once were mere shoots, now no longer the green.
From the Compendium of One Hundred Word Stories
The Angry Farmer 