FARM HAND ~

Our triple hemlocks
photo by Bob Arnold




________________________________________________________

Farm Hand

                                                            for Ted Enslin

FARM HAND

climbed

a tall ladder

with hammer

pocket of

nails two

boards sawn

with a dull

bow saw now

climbs to a

high corner

of the barn

where an old

window lost

long ago of

any glass &

if people

were not

around no

one would

mind this

pigeon that

flies in this

pigeon that

flies out

•

first 10 years

they told you

second 10 years

they asked you

•

today scythed the swale

mowed the lawn

lifted the wide barn door

back onto its track

raked bark for kindling

added topsoil turning compost

took on the job to wash all

windows in the big house

looked for grapes under

frosty palm-size leaves

showed the owner how

to hang a birdfeeder

•

was asked

to build a

footbridge

but really

it was having

to lug by hand

down the steep

pasture & where

there was to ford

a spring runoff

two heavy planks

settled in

for them

all to

walk over

•

very good

money is

what pays you

& when the

youngest

daughter

living away

from home

took her

life very

good money

didn’t help

•

heard of

the death

while using a

rake & having

to hold it off

as the father

approached un-

expectedly hugged

you in sobs

•

you finally

know the folks

when you’ve

twenty-years

grown their

potatoes

•

everyone is the same —

first week of October

no one talks about anything

but firewood

  

•

where a

scythe

is used

always

think of

them walking

through

•

in Spring

the axe laid

down on

barn beam

finished at

splitting for

the season is

picked up right

there in Fall

•

dug the grave

when their

favorite

cat died

by his favorite

apple tree

•

flowers

they once

taught you

now you remind

them of their

names

•

the large

red barn

house-attached

has never been

painted since

you’ve been here

•

many years

now have

passed

they walk

out to

greet you

_________________

Bob Arnold

ONCE IN VERMONT

Gnomon

LUCKY ~

Leaving For Work

I could hold you

All morning like this —

Loose summer dress

In my hands, brush of

Sunburn on your shoulders,

The feel of your waist,

And a game of tip-toeing

Who is taller, as we kiss

And won’t let go

That's Her

doing farm chores, lugging

water she hikes through a field

of wet grasses in high boots

old pants & cap, a red tee

shirt she slept in & much

earlier in bed I raised this

                                                                & kissed her kissed her

Wait

All evening

A swallow has

Swept the grassy

Farmyard for one

Shed goose

Feather to stitch

Into her nest —

It is easy enough

For me to pick

Up — but I watch

Instead, until

She has it

Lucky

She is right, this woman

I love, it has been a windy

Fall. And her blonde hair slips

Apart in long strands and with

One hand she combs it away from

Her face and she is smiling. For

Lunch she eats an apple and suns

Her legs, a summer skirt raised.

She is a mother. A small boy is

Napping upstairs in the house.

When awake he will chase

Leaves that fall down from the

Sky, that’s how he sees it.

He calls me daddy because I am.

When I was off at work this

Morning up river laying stone

Along the road in the village

A blonde woman and her young son

Visited me. Hands cold gripping

Wet stone, boots chalked. This

Woman carried her little boy

In her arms, his green sweater

Was like the one my son wears

His mother knitted, ah the love

Of mothers! and I gathered stone

By hand and thought of blue sky

Above, day clear as the river,

And why you must love what you do.

_____________________________

                       Bob Arnold

ONCE IN VERMONT

Gnomon

photo ~ "Early Spring"
by bob arnold