It’s a quadrille Monday at the Poet’s Pub, #89 in fact, and Merril has served up the word “set”. Despite some initial technical difficulties I am now all set with these 44 words.



Seed potatoes and onion sets

his planting now mostly these

come fall he’ll gather butternuts

apple drops from straggly trees.

His old horse predeceased him

hamed collar hangs near the plow

wonders how he’ll get the wood in

to keep winter fires burning now.

17 thoughts on “Forestall

  1. Thank you for hosting! I love quadrille, it usually stirs a poem into being, but sometimes they feel rushed. I knew this was’t finished even as I posted. So, slightly revised, and with a second quadrille in a response to Norah, now I like it. It reminds me of an old bachelor farmer who fascinated me as a young child, a friend of my father’s, a seemingly ancient old fashioned farmer who seemed to span centuries. My father and a buddy of his brought electricity to his home in the late sixties. I always wondered at the state of disrepair and ruin of the house, the horse, and the man. There was an old hound too. And yet all very much alive and full of stories I was eager to hear.


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