Friday, February 3, 2012

-cruising with the Meckelburgs-
Consider the natural stones,
Those laying in place on the dirt or the stiff-
Pale grass of the meadow;
Those collected and stored
At the side of the house where the angle
Of the cellar's entry shuts them off;
The natural stones they carry around
With two hands, laying them out again in some
Sort of order; those rock-picked in places
At the edges to fit the layers of the rising wall,
Like the one
Running between the weed-populated meadow
And the farmland acres on Russells Mills Road.
Here, milk cows dot the land behind the wire fences
Not far from their barns,
Coming to the fences to get a closer look,
And if you stand at ease and let them come to you,
They will.  Then,
One of them will sneeze through its nostrils
And soak you in mucus.
The stone wall is across the road from that.
It’s been there for fifty some odd years according
To Mrs. Meckelburg, who’s guessing, I think,
And its rocks are structured for activeness.
It stands about four feet;
The sides picket sharply in many directions
And the shelf pickets in the jagged
Circumference of its top-stones the same way.
I don’t know if the farmer, I’m assuming,
Did the best he could, or if its architecture
Was planned to be this way.
Less than a mile down Russell’s Mills,
Heading to where the cows get milked automatically
Under the guardianship of Hood Dairy,
By machines behind glass enclosures for public viewing,
Or public humiliation,—
Another natural stone wall is built and stands
On farmland separating it from some other sort of property.
From my vantage-point, this wall is sculpted
And pressed inside its design parameters. Each stone
Seems to have been carefully scrutinized for the benefit
Of the wall's common attitude. It looks impossibly planed.
Consider ingenuity and quiet spectacle here.
Crossing Russells Mills Road,
Consider the milk cows gathered there
As formal and distant.
At the fence, come the long faces forward;
The head's emptiness approaching;
The nasal sneezing forthcoming.
Consider the same
Soaking mucus, glazing.

                                  South Dartmouth, Mass.
                                          

  

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.