More poetry…

I really like this.


Song At Milking  by Mary Kellogg

Dad was a quiet man
especially around the cows

evening chores begin
he pats first cow gently
and settles on the three legged stool
resting his soft farmers hat against her thigh
begins to pull the milk down
silver milk bucket resonates zing zing on metal

I am watching from the doorstep, feet flat on cement
warm moist scent of hay and cows wrap around me
cows wait stoically
grinding hay and grain in sliding motion

I like it here I start to whistle

Dad says  Whistling women and crowing hens
are no good for mice and men

smiling he says, My mother used to sing.
She had a beautiful voice
The neighbors loved to hear her singing in the garden

Did you ever sing?  I ask

Used to, sometimes.

Will you sing a song for me?

He begins, Yankee Doodle went to town riding on a pony
put a feather in his cap and called it macaroni
Yankee Doodle keep it up, Yankee Doodle dandy
mind the music and the dance and with the girls be handy

in bubble of mirth I whistle Dad’s tune up the step
and out the door


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