Laura Grace Weldon shared one of her poems in a comment to my last post. It is such an excellent poem that I want to make sure no one missed it. It is from her collection Tending. I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do.
Haying: June 12
I follow windrows as they curve
around the field’s geometry.
Rows of cut red clover and timothy
lie yet unsquared.
Driving our ancient tractor, I’m satisfied
with a perfect turn, the roller coaster rush
of throttling up over ruts.
I don’t care that our finances are precarious
as the glue holding together my glasses.
A conjunction of deep blue and green
plus birdsong, equals peace.
My sons lift bales from the field
a smooth ballet of strength
that plays like baling twine
unrolling steadily through the day.
My daughter stacks teetering squares on the wagon
as her father pulls it, head turned watchfully.
Afternoon light shines in their hair.
They call to each other, laughing as they work
voices held aloft as chaff’s long glittering.
Even swallowing this day I couldn’t feel more whole.
Hay piles up in the barn’s dark recesses
like stored sunlight.
Laura Grace Weldon