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.

4 comments:

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.