FIRST ART PROJECT
It took a long time to pound
a whole keg of brand
new spikes
into the hard ranch yard
A silvery path
paved with shining heads
danced bright in the prairie sun
I stood back young and strong
and proud and knew
that it was beautiful and good
My father thought he had to teach
There was no room for art
in a hard yard
in a hard world
It was a long time before I tried again
KENNY and ME
(or Ranching at Eighteen)
Together we were young
and strong and very bold
And together we could drink
more beer than we could hold
We could drive home late and fast
singing every Johnny Horton song
And then fall asleep for minutes
and still answer the morning gong
We would work it out in the hot hot sun
(so easy then did the poisons yield)
As we sweated bales with pith forks
and passed gas
in a thousand acre field
THE CROW
TWO BOYS AND CROW AT 50 YARDS
TWO SHOTS AS ONE THE CROW FELL STILL
WE LAUGHED AND RAN WHOSE HIT WHOSE MISS
TWO HOLES IN HEAD
AS CLOSE AS THIS
O O
THE LIFE WAS IN OUR EYES AND SKILL
TOO FAR FROM DEATH TO UNDERSTAND A KILL
TEACHER
(In defense of schoolboy crushes)
She was my teacher in grade four
I fell in love for evermore
Not a love I could express
though with schoolwork might impress
And so I spent my nights and days
in search of learning and of praise
A flower opening to the light
in aching anguish and delight
Then she went and moved away
It seemed life ended on that day
Through looking back on that great year
not dimmed by time but made more clear
I see that ancient youthful yearning
remains as love of love and learning