Thursday, July 25, 2013

Hauling Hay

I was working outside yesterday afternoon in the 100 degree heat and it reminded me of a summer when I hauled hay with my brother-in-law for a few extra coins.  Many years later I penned this poem to bring the experience to life with word pictures.  I hope you enjoy it.

Hauling Hay

I was a teacher
my salary was meager
I spent the summers
hauling hay.

The Texas sun
was searing at dawn
when I rose to see
if my hay truck
would start.

I climbed in the cab.
looked at the ground.
The truck had no floorboard
just blue smoke and sound.

The hay fields were strewn.
Square bales of alfalfa.
Heavy to lift,
tough to inhale.

We stacked them high
on the flatbed behind us.
One hundred and twenty
at twelve cents a bale.

We made for the barn.
A loft with no air flow.
Sweating and stacking
and swatting the wasps.

The scene was repeated
as long as the sun shone.
Then we, and the truck

coughed our way home.

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