No Tool or Rope or Pail
It hardly mattered what time of year
We passed by their farmhouse,
They never waved,
This old farm couple
Usually bent over in the vegetable garden
Or walking the muddy dooryard
Between house and red-weathered barn.
They would look up, see who was passing,
Then look back down, ignorant to the event.
We would always wave nonetheless,
Before you dropped me off at work,
Further up the hill,
Toolbox rattling in the backseat,
And then again on the way home
Later in the day, the pale sunlight
High up in their pasture,
Our arms out the window,
And it was that one midsummer evening
We drove past and caught them sitting
Together on the front porch
At ease, chores done,
The tangle of cats and kittens
Cleaning themselves of fresh spilled milk
On the barn door ramp;
We drove by and they looked up –
The first time I’ve ever seen their
Hands free of any work,
No tool or rope or pail –
And they waved.
Great poem, Laura – I loved it! H-m-m…I think I need to get back in the “Poetry Thursday” frame of mind. I’ve missed it!
You win-not only did you guess who it was, but also who “me” was! Maybe I shouldn’t post things at 11pm at night after a long week?!
I love your poem, Laura. I could see it. What is happening with your zucchini situation?
I like that poem a lot. It’s definitely very visual and I liked the part about the kittens and the milk the best.