*photo by my daughter, Shirrae
great tooth and rolling gum of Rockies
gnawing on bisque blue sky
whose drooling falls upon its bib
young or old in its arrival
clawing arms disappearing
into golden wheatfields my father’s grain
scythed down and gathered like girl’s ponytails
stooked for gather by rough hands gloved
hunched down against December’s wasting
a warning to pioneer and patriarchs
holding court upon broad chest of home
bristling with saskatoon and chokecherry bushes
like old man’s whiskers
sweating brow of hard days work
dust gritting underneath the band of his work hat
a keening look at fall of sun
a calendar of work for morrow’s bringing
small town shrunk with age our hill
shrunk down with years of snow and wind
pristine in its whitened gown
robes edges rimmed with yard mud and grit
still beautiful to me my memory of him coming in
a steaming bucket of fresh milking
to be put into puzzling slots of separator
for choicest cream to bluish milk another daughter
too late in his age too headstrong to skim
as cream of crop she wants to be whole
I am homesick for this milky sky
that man who had little to say
and much to project to a little one who noticed
he was as big and as important as sky
©Carol Desjarlais 11.26.22
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