Friday, November 5, 2010

Poetry Friday: The Hay Rake

The Hay Rake

One evening I stopped by the field to watch the hay rake
drawn toward me by two black, tall, ponderous horses
who stepped like conquerors over the fallen oat stalks,
light-shot dust at their heels, long shadows before them.
At the ditch the driver turned back in a wide arc,
the off-horse scrambling, the near-horse pivoting neatly.
The big side-delivery rake came about with a shriek—
its tines were crashing, the iron-bound tongue groaned aloud—
then, Hup, Diamond! Hup, Duke! and they set off west,
trace-deep in dust, going straight into the low sun.

The clangor grew faint, distance and light consumed them;
a fiery chariot rolled away in a cloud of gold
and faded slowly, brightness dying into brightness.
The groaning iron, the prophesying wheels,
the mighty horses with their necks like storms—
all disappeared; nothing was left but a track
of dust that climbed like smoke up the evening wind. 

                     -- Kate Barnes

Today, everyone's hanging out, reciting poetry, and drinking coffee over at Teaching Authors. Stop on by!

I found the photo above over at Marona Photography. Check out their other awesome images here.


Mary Lee said...

Perfect photo to to with the poem! Did you take that?

I'm Jet . . . said...

Mary Lee, thank you for reminding me to credit the photo. Now done!

Amy LV said...

We live right near a cornfield, and the day the harvester (not horse-driven) comes is still exciting! Two retired gentlemen neighbors always come and park their little four-wheelers by the side of our road to watch and watch...just like in this poem. I love, "dust that climbed like smoke up the evening wind". A.

I'm Jet . . . said...

That's so cool, Amy. I love the scent that lingers afterward, too.