Wind
Where Native has his junkyard
Which is causing all this trouble
With another town down river
About spilled fluids and such
A wind last week came into the
Valley and got snagged up right
At that spot and after it took off
Half of Gardener’s greenhouse
Roof and sailed it somewhere
Wind opened its mouth and bared
Its teeth and shook the earth from
Under Native’s life by knocking
Red pine trees his father planted
Anyway it pleased, some over
Those shit cars, and you just
Wouldn’t believe how the large
Rock maples that have grown
For years along the river
Woodlot
Here with me everywhere
In the snowy woods
Far from any road —
The smallest animal tracks
Logger
Logger came around at dinner time
And rapped at the kitchen door. We
Could see him through the glass door
Standing there in grimy t-shirt and
Camouflage trousers but had no idea
Who he was. Friendly enough smile.
He introduced himself tipping his head
In a few nods like a shy pony before
Spilling out the reason for his visit.
Turns out the Boy had been over across
River where logger was cutting and with
Another friend fooled with his skidder —
The gears had been played with, seat
Monkeyed over and what was worse
Logger found matches stuffed down
The gas tank and didn’t like it one bit.
I agreed and called the Boy over.
Logger looked at him as I did and
When asked if he had screwed with
The skidder nodded that he had but
Now realizes it was wrong and he
Didn’t mean to. Logger seemed a
Fair-minded sort and admitted he was
Once wild as a kid and seemed to
Satisfy himself with that. Turns out
He is cutting on Cityboy’s land which
Takes driving a log truck through a
Low part of the river, never mind getting
Over there each day for Logger, so his
Job was tough enough not to have kids
Playing with his gear. We left it with
A mutual understanding and an oily
Handprint of Logger on the white porch
Railing where we had stood awhile and
Talked about things around this valley.
Old Trick
Waiting for snow by
Getting everything done
Bob Arnold
Yokel
Longhouse
2011
