Farmer / Healer
by Lorence Gutterman
Musical offerings were Robert’s healer:
Boil That Cabbage Down, cadence of cicadas.
Churchgoer and banjo player, he farmed
the hills of southern Ohio for seventy years.
Lung cancer struck chords in his liver
like Sclerotina in cabbage.
His eyes lost rhythm, and gaps
of three missing teeth took center stage.
His scalp was barren, face bristly.
His overalls were checkerboard patched, frayed
and faded by years of meals.
Now a meager crop, he had
“A few months to live.”
Did he understand?
One month later
his jack-o-lantern teeth were less prominent,
his scalp was sprouting grass, whiskers mowed.
Eyes strummed
“Started playing my banjo several times a week
at church.” His grin said the rest.
By day corn husks unfold their dreams.
By night morning-glories fold upward in prayer.