Stories and Poems

I'll change what I post here from time to time, but today this one feels TIMELY!

Boneyard

As I stand before my kitchen sink I gaze upon a scene

of red rock cliffs and mountains, blue skies so clear and clean

But my eyes can't help but wander to the foreground of this view

And the composition alters.  It seems a bit askew.

There is a focal point of boneyard.  An extensive, vast resource

As important to a rural man as once the ox, plow horse

My artist’s eye discerns a curve.  Ah.  A tireless tractor rim.

An asset of great value.  At least it is to him.

And over there a tractor, anchored with a cable.

It has no axel on the front.  I wonder if it's stable?

There are trucks we'll never drive again, with parts we just might need

Two washers, stacks of tin, fence posts, broken planters for hay seed.

A disassembled granary, a silo on three stilts

There is a screen for cleaning gravel, and a camper slowly tilts

There are hutches for a chicken coop. Piles of boards and tires

Mysterious objects under tarps, rolls of fencing wire.

He has a collection of old cars he plans to fix, some day

And of probable use in the garden, a mound of moldy hay.

Three piles of useful cinder blocks, some pallets in the weeds

Essential items on the farm, things we'll likely need.

Implements for tractors, irrigation parts

Relics from our farming past, projects we've yet to start

And sure, it all has value.  The scrap alone would bring a bundle

And he rarely brings it inside the house.  I suppose I should be humble

So I pause to count my blessings.  Perhaps I should write them down.

Heading up my grateful list is that we don't live in town.

Can you just imagine?  And I think now I have it rough?

But on a quarter acre city lot?  Where would he put this stuff!

©J. Kirkwood

Feel free to leave a comment! Link to my email here:jokirkwoodjk@gmail.com jokirkwood@icloud.com

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