by Hannah Grubb

The better half of the farmer’s day
Brought out the worst in him-
Sweat and blood, toil and tears-
All for the love of a vegetable

The hardest of the harvest
A plant with a mind of its own
Inches beneath the earth’s surface
The parsnip refused to let go

No amount of heave or ho
Could coax her from her rest
For somewhere deep and darker still
Her plunging roots held fast

“Why do you bother me?” they crowed,
In unison made known
The shame the parsnip harbored
For the place where she had grown

With raised brow and lowered voice
The farmer leaned in close, saying
“Yours won’t be the only loss
If you don’t introduce yourself”

The parsnip then reflected
Looking newly at her likeness
That the depths from which she rose
Had made her riper for the harvest

And liking what she saw
Complexion, roots, and all
Springing through the soily earth
She made way for the above

Drawing by Hannah Grubb

Drawing by Hannah Grubb

Thumbnail image by Evelyn Stetzer.