Futuristic Farm by Linda Imbler
A little house on thirty-six acres of refuge, outside a small Texas town, accessible only by one narrow, perilous, rutted dirt road. My father’s farm, weekend retreat, brought him back to his small-town upbringing. Reminded him that the actual beauty of the world, woods and streams, “The Bottoms” and birds, could still exist even this close to urban life. A rural, pastoral farm; a house with feather beds, cots for extra bodies, mowing pastures, riding horses, barbecuing, tire swings and hammocks, homemade ice cream fresh from the churn, happy, slow days and nights. Chasing after bees, a favorite pastime of my brothers, seems always to revert to being chased by bees, a buzzy revenge for a disturbed afternoon nap. Stunning sunsets seen from the porch swing reflecting the promise of meeting the Divine. Halcyon days now coming to an end, the government is buying those acres, as a reservoir is coming. The little house and pasture, even the tree planted in my father’s memory after his death, all will soon be submerged. Maybe someday beings from “out there” will explore our planet and find this little piece of Americana, becoming so rare, as similar bucolic scenes fade into obscurity. Their courage took them millions of miles to come here, but first they’ll have to brave that narrow, perilous, rutted dirt road.
Linda Imbler is the author of the chapbook Lost and Found. She was most recently published in the Fine Flu Journal. Other poems were published by deadsnakes.blogspot.com, behappyzone.com, bluepepper.blogspot.com, buckoffmag.com, Bunbury Magazine and Broad River Review. Her short stories have been published in Fear of Monkeys and Danse Macabre. This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player resides in Wichita, Kansas.