Garden
I have worked on rich people’s gardens —
Old well-restored barns filled with all
Sorts of machinery and tools and even
Finer tools bought from the very best
Mail order catalogs and more times
Than not a hoe or trowel or shovel is
Left out in the rain, long watering hoses
Knotted up, vegetable seed packets strewn
And the overall place in an uproar of chaos
Because it is hard work to live a life of luxury
Between the city and the country unless you
Have lots of help, but Native has no help ex-
Cept for his wife, the little grandkid and one
Of his boys if he is visiting up there on the
Knoll, under the sugar maples, in what
Was once tarpapered and since Native is
A jack-of-all-trades he’s covered the walls
With plank siding and sits in the late
Afternoon on a crappy chair with a beer and
The radio on low, the fawning grandkid
Close by and something for you to sit on if
You like and wish to stay awhile amongst the
Plush flowers and little stonework path that
Bomb
Native’s wife drove a big bomb of a car —
Chevy, Buick, Plymouth or something?
It was long before four-wheel drive or
Front-wheel drive and everything counted
On the driver. But she never missed a
Day’s work and I can’t ever really
Remember her car ever being stuck.
And that’s when these roads were
Far worse, pre-newcomers —
Slick cold ice road mornings,
Bad old deep mud draw —
She got through.
She Talks
Standing in a
Chain saw repair
Shop waiting for a
New chain to be
Fitted onto her
Homelite, most of
Us standing close
To the woodstove,
Gloves icy, she
Said how today
Oodles of geese
Flew over her farm
Snazzy
That’s the best
way to see bright
red snazzy high
heeled shoes —
Native caught
in her dooryard
for a moment
and she had
just thrown
them on
_______________
Bob Arnold
Yokel
Longhouse
2011
