Furtive Bloggers, Unite!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I am writing this from my desk at work...something I never do. What if the CEO walks by and sees my brumby on the computer screen???
Earlier in the summer I found this beautiful poem by Gary Snyder. Now, I have loved Gary Snyder forever. He was definately one of my hard core heros when I was in my twenties. I have been hoarding this poem, wanting to post it on a beautiful day in the summer when it felt just right, say maybe when the farmers were actually haying their fields. But alas, we didn't get a summer this year; all we got was wet glop. It is amazing any haying got done at all! In any event, I am posting the poem today.

Hay for the Horses

He had driven half the night
From far down San Joaquin
Through Mariposa, up the
Dangerous Mountain roads,
And pulled in at eight a.m.
With his big truckload of haybehind the barn.
With winch and ropes and hooks
We stacked the bales up clean
To splintery redwood rafters
High in the dark, flecks of alfalfa
Whirling through shingle-cracks of light,
Itch of haydust in the sweaty shirt and shoes.
At lunchtime under Black oak
Out in the hot corral,
---The old mare nosing lunchpails,
Grasshoppers crackling in the weeds---
"I'm sixty-eight" he said,
"I first bucked hay when I was seventeen.
I thought, that day I started,
I sure would hate to do this all my life.
And dammit, that's just what
I've gone and done."


Anonymous said...

Thanks for the poem!

Nuzzling Muzzles said...

Ha ha! I love that poem too. I haven't read it in years, so thank for bringing it up.

juliette said...

Lovely! The old mare nosing lunchpails.

Jan's Place USA and Mt Forest Pictures said...

that was good, you know anyone who has dealt with the old farmers and has known that man! I did.. his name was Ed Dietch, and all of us young horse crazy kids knew Ed. He sold us hay for many years.

Pony Girl said...

Thanks for sharing that, it was great and very detailed. I'm sorry you had a gloppy summer! Maybe this winter will be better?

Anonymous said...

poetry + horses = wonderfulness

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