Monthly Archives: March 1994

TEACHER

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry, Nostalgia / tagged , , , / / by

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

BLACK BEAUTY

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry / tagged , , / / by

BLACK BEAUTY

When we moved to Grandfather’s old farm
no one had been living there for a while
and all the cats had gone wild

We found a litter of kittens
hidden deep in a corner of the loft
and among them
the most beautiful black and white kitten

Spitting and crouching under the eaves
she scratched us all to the bone
If I’d been a tree there would
have been six rings

Much persistence and we got her out
much time and love and we tamed her
if one ever really tames a cat

Best cat ever
adopted by our cousins when we moved
and one of the things we most looked forward
to on our visits was Black Beauty and her newest
of who knew how many litters

The tomcats in that town were also
excellent judges of beauty

WINTER IN THE BARN

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry / tagged , , , , / / by

WINTER IN THE BARN

Steam rises off the backs of big horses

The old Holstein in the second stall
shifts her weight from side to side
matching the rhythm of the milking

and flicks her tail at memories
of summer flies

Across the width of the barn
I stand with mouth open
in my biggest five year old oval

catching most of the milk
squirted dead eye straight
by the laughing hired man

In the tack room
kittens wait by a tin plate
to put their morning moustache on

In my memory it is always warm in the barn

MEMORIES OF THREE OR FOUR

Audio Recordings, Cowboy Poetry, Nostalgia / tagged , , , / / by

MEMORIES OF THREE OR FOUR

I remember being nestled
in that old ranch kitchen
deep in the warmth of washday Monday

The Maytag’s liquid sounds mixing
with the gentle driving chugs
of the little gas engine

Sloshing and chugging sloshing and chugging
as I curled up beside it
in the great pile of laundry
rich with the smells of the people I loved

Half asleep half awake I floated there
all my senses safely cradled and warmed
and part of a rhythm and a sound
like a heartbeat in a womb