I was driving past some farm fields recently, and what I saw brought this poem back to my mind. I was surprised at how much I wanted to revise it, so I did, keeping some from those four or five years ago.
—–
Fields
As the new crop comes in
I see the remnant of the old
scattered around the edges of the field
still standing
I know time will eventually bring it down
It will, some day, fall
but for now, it stands
the remnant of the old
And so it is with me
A new season
A new crop
A new direction
With the remnant of the old
still standing
Yet There is Method 
What a beautiful slice here. Tim. And it resonates so deeply. All of the new things we sow and reap. No matter how cleanly we might move on, or how cleanly we transition, there are always those pieces that stay with us. Thank you for this poem today. It was needed.
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Thank you, Lainie. In one sentence, you explained my poem better than I did! Some things do stay with us, much longer than a few plants at the side of a field.
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This is beautiful. Such a great musing for the changing of the seasons.
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Thank you, Andrea.
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Loving this earthy reflection, Tim. And the fact that you’re coming back to an old work; melding the old with the new. Still standing.
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Thank you, Kat. (:
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As the others who commented observed, you’ve written a beautiful poem here. It is so relatable for all of us. I’d be interested to know which lines you kept and what lines you let go. Editing or updating our past work is typically so hard, kudos to you for accomplishing that.
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Thank you, Carol. With a smile on my face, I always say that editing and revising my past work typically involves cutting half of it out and changing passive voice stuff to active. I don’t always do that, but it’s a safe bet that’s what happens!
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I love the repeated phrase, “the remnant of the old” in your poem, Tim. It’s a reoccurring theme in the editing process…and life! 🙂
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It really is, isn’t it? Sometimes I think I need to cut down more of the old crop, but there it still is. Thanks for reading!
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It’s a poem to keep for all of us, reminding that some goodness was there in the past, as we anticipate the wonderful things coming. I don’t know how you changed it, Tim, but it is a lovely poem, observation now!
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Thank you, Linda!
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Your “Fields” poem makes me think that fallow, a word that comes to mind when I conjure winter fields, can’t apply when we understand that something significant remains, not in size but in tenacity. What of the underneath and the invisible life of the soil & on & on. I’m pondering because I visited here. Appreciations for sharing.
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Jan, you’re right: Sometimes what is left behind is, indeed, significant. I’m glad you stopped by and read today–thank you.
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Yes, the old and new often coexist for a long, long time. Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
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Beautiful poem. Those remnants of the past can nourish the new growth that comes.
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Thanks, Kay. The remnants are important, aren’t they?
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Tim, this is so lovely. I think you’ve honed it down to the essentials here. I admit I prefer really short poems, so its compression is definitely part of what I admire about it, but I think this is one of your best!
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Thank you, Laura. For me, editing and rewriting previous work usually involves cutting out half of what I originally settled on. I appreciate your comments. (:
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