Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Saturday, September 26, 2020

I Walk Out On The Fragrant Fields Of September*


In The Barn of Morning I found a stool, but its cow was in the field,

south of the sun,

and just north of the earth.

The stool was called The Stool of Error,

Its legs named Impulse, Disaster and Wisdom,

each one held in the jaws of a laughing hyena.


I took my bonnet and breastplate

and walked out upon the fragrant fields of September,

following the shifting arrow of a weather vane

and the cowbell-call of my wandering girl.

"Halloo," I called, carrying The Stool of Error

and shaking the hyenas off.

"It's just me, with my bucket and milking hat, 

dandelion blooms in the pocket of my smock."


"Bessie," I said, beginning my work,

"In The Barn of Morning, when all is quiet and you face the east as all milkers do and must,

Do you think of your lost calves 

and the bulls who came and went?

Or are your big, kind eyes on the brightening world

and all of its clover and blue sky bigness?

Moo me a clue, girlfriend. 

Under this gingham and chain mail I am fierce lonesome

and sorely unsure."


All afternoon the sun dripped across the heavens

while hyenas chittered and hid behind a buckthorn bush.

I picked up the Stool of Error and led Bessie back

to the Barn of Evening.

She lowed softly as she settled in,

and I thought that was as good advice as any,

The Soft Moo of Stay Tuned, Chickie, 

a sort of psalm for this moon-hearted milkmaid to ponder.

___________

for Sunday Muse #127.

*with apologies to Grover Lewis ("I Walk Out On The Wounded Fields Of October")


15 comments:

  1. Nice, nice, nice, Shay, very enjoyable reading. I'm glad the milkmaid was able to get Bessie back home. And I love all the names you've come up with. I'll choose 'Stool of Error', milkmaids are sitting low and in precarious position for a kicking cow to reach. We had three one-legged stools, one each for Mom, Dad, and me. None for my younger sister, I don't think she even learned to milk a cow.
    ..

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  2. I love the feel of how this moves through both a day but yet is like an entire life flashing before us. This is full of beauty and deep with the questions all women have in their heart! I have always sensed a certain gentleness in cows. I love how that was also evident here. Gorgeous, wise, and profound! I love love love this Shay!

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  3. The world of this poem enchants me, charms me, like some faery realm I will be captured by forever if I enter. I don't understand it, so I won't claim to analyze it, but I find it beautiful, other-worldly and beguilingly odd. You are a truly gifted poet, Shay. I can do nothing but gasp in awe.

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  4. Wonderful. Loved the bonnet and the breastplate to start with.

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  5. ...I am just in awe. Dorothy as a Valkyrie and that cow...how do you do it? Draw everything in and recreate it??

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  6. Sigh. This made me so happy to read. It is amazing, wonderful. Every, Single. Word. Perfection in a poem!

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  7. Your Bessie-poem delighted me, through and through. "the soft moo of stay tuned, chickie" had me snorting out loud. Moo, moo.

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  8. What a joyous read! I loved the incongruity of a breast plate and bonnet, along with the Stool of Error and .... well, I just simply adored it all! I think I may have to order a Stool of Error. There seem to be frequent occasion when one is required!

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  9. Such a beautiful poem. It speaks to my questioning heart where I seek peace through animals more than any human. As always, I am in such awe of your writing.

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  10. I love they mythic tone of this, and then the humorous juxtaposition of the "bonnet and breastplate" or the "Moo me a clue, girlfriend" or "The soft moo of stay tuned, Chickie"
    Really cool write, Fireblossom.

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  11. Warrior cow milking, always one of my favorite themes. Wasn't there some of that in the lost transcripts of Beowulf? You did this one up right. "Moo me a clue, girlfriend" is priceless. And party crashing hyenas! Do they hunt and eat any psalms that don't make it back to barn?

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  12. “following the shifting arrow of a weather vane
    and the cowbell-call of my wandering girl”

    "It's just me, with my bucket and milking hat,
    dandelion blooms in the pocket of my smock."

    Love. So much.

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  13. This painted a lovely and witty look at two lives each getting love from the other.

    “Moo me a clue, girlfriend”

    “Soft moo of stay-tuned, Chickie”

    Just love this!

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  14. with just a few strokes you bring worlds to life ~

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