Oak Mountain Echoes

The Hermit
The thing that I wanted most was solitude.
I bought five acres, planted them in vineyards,
And built my cabin, two rooms facing east;
In summer lived in both rooms, but in winter
Closed off the room that didn’t have a fireplace.
The day I went to town to buy a hoe,
A brindled dog followed me home and stayed
For seven years, then one day disappeared.
I sold strawberries, wine from my grapes, brandy
Flavored with peaches from my dozen trees,
And melons from a patch so up-and-down
The fruit would roll and dangle by the vines.
I had one neighbor, but we seldom spoke.
Infrequently a wagon traced the road
Across the mountain, passing near my vineyard,
And now and then I walked to town to trade
Or sell my produce. In a few years, too few,
I had a stroke, and then I had to go
To Richmond with my daughter, there to live
What time was left, if you could call it living.
I respect God, and if I ever see him
And he grants me a wish, all I mean to ask
Is an acre hidden on the far slope of Heaven,
My old stray dog, and to be left alone.

Page 11 (copyright 2001 Joanne R. Cage)

4th prize, State contest 1999.