Tag Archives: Ranch Life

Poems and stories describing life working, living and growing up on a farm or ranch

WORKING WITH FATHER

Audio Recordings, Farm, Ranch Life / tagged , , , , / / by

WORKING WITH FATHER

In the short days of a long winter
we sort nuts, bolts, and washers
against the busy days of summer

Place them in well-marked bins
accompanied always by his mentor’s
Never waste five dollars worth of time
looking for a five cent bolt

The 9/16th fine-threads do not go in
with the regular or coarse

When you’re four
it’s not hard to get up
at four to ride in the cattle
truck to the city with your dad
excitement keeps you awake all night

There are knots you need to know
reef, sheepshank, and the ever
popular bowline that can still
be undone even after looping
a red bull weighing a ton

Hook the twine around your
little finger just son, in a way
that I could never get,
three turns and knot
the gunny sack
in two seconds
flat

Heel that calf, or turn the herd
drive the truck at the perfect speed
to catch the combine
on the fly

There is a great deal of pleasure in
doing something right, when right
is the only way anything should
ever be done

But never far, even yet
from the red-black cloud
of doing it wrong

SEASONS

Audio Recordings / tagged , , / / by

SEASONS

My grandfather came to Canada
trailing the civilities of Europe

Planted ten thousand trees
on the bald-assed prairie

Plenty of produce for a family
and acres and acres and acres
of flowers as well

On the other side of a depression
and the rationings of war
every plant like every animal
on my parents’ ranch
had to pay its way

At our house in Austin
we have only flowers

DON’T WORRY MATE

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

DON’T WORRY MATE

Up North working the neighbour’s calves

One of those mixed farm forty cow
no corral kind of operations
good folks though and they help us out

We’re branding and cutting and vaccinating
in a lean-to off the barn in shit eight inches deep

No room for a horse or a rope
so you just have to grab those calves
and throw them down right side up
so they’re dry enough to brand

The farmer’s son loses his grip on a catch
and the calf tries to bolt past me

I turn quick, grab the head and come ‘round
fast to where the farmer stands flat footed
with that big syringe in his hand
needle pointed forward

Into my shoulder, skin, flesh and the bone
dumping the whole shot of multi-task
vaccine

The next day the arm hurts bad
and it doesn’t look too good

So we drive down to Mossbank
to see the old Aussie flying doctor
who must have gotten off course
to land in Saskatchewan

He gives me some medicine
and says come back in three days

I say I’ll probably be fine by then
and it’s sixty miles round trip

He says “don’t worry mate
you’re vaccinated for shipping fever”

And I’ve been traveling ever since

PINCHER CREEK ALBERTA

Cowboy Poetry, Poems about Poetry / tagged , , , / / by

PINCHER CREEK ALBERTA

Mid June and Cowboy Poets back in town
voices hoarse from long winters silence

And a thousand and more are here to hear
for the poets have been listening all year

Listening to the cattle and the coyotes
and the Northern Lights at nights

And they have been reminded
and being reminded they remember
and remembering they come here to remind

And just listening we remember
and unwind

MOTHER’S POEM

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

MOTHER’S POEM

The kitchen has always been the center
of the universe of any farm or ranch

She feeds their sleepy forms in morning
clothes them for the cold or warm
and prays them safe from harm

Looks out her window to the East
where barn shadows and rolling hills
greet them as they start their day

Men in firm direction to their work
children scattering to play

Then South across the lake to catch
the water’s mood foretelling wind or calm

Sometimes
sees in morning
mirages of cutbanks rising
like mountains along the Eastern shore

Or more directly to the South
forms of her old neighbour’s homes
rising and shimmering
like memories of her youth

Seasons spiral out and in from this center
crocus and buttercups in the greening grass
cactus flowers and the joy of newborn calves

The growing season of the grain
and golden glory of a well stooked field

The shortening of days into winter
and the ever present stars
joined by the dance
of Northern
lights

Within each season she has watched
the play of seasons of each day
men return from roundup
children from their play

While she waits always at the center
to warm and love and feed

and safely tuck away

HOME MADE ICE CREAM

Audio Recordings, Nostalgia / tagged , , , , / / by

HOME MADE ICE CREAM

When I was five we lived on a ranch
still forty miles and forty years
away from electric power

We only got to eat ice cream
when hail lay deep enough on the ground
to be scooped into the old hand mixer

Many a hot evening in August and July
five of us sat on those hard ranch steps
looking out at the Western sky

Watching the black clouds and the grey
building and rolling our way

Silently praying our protestant Hail Marys
four for and Dad against

SHEETS TO THE WIND

Audio Recordings, Nostalgia / tagged , / / by

SHEETS TO THE WIND

Reminded by Marymae the other day

of Monday’s wash in Tuesday’s wind
and bending sheets to bring them in

It was about just enough starch
and thirty degrees below in March

And about how fingers got cold as hell
but I think it was really about the smell

Yes that was the part she wanted to tell
it was really the freshness of that smell