In Your Place

Never went looking for a man
to wed or do man's work
why on earth, would a person do that
No thank you, sir, you said.

Hundred head of cattle waiting
out past the corn and beans,
Each rooster's crow a red-dirt circle
on a calendar you never stopped to turn.

When did you trade that Singer in the corner
sewing those hems and dreams
for weathered fingers, hands in need of yellow lotion
twisted like the barbed wire fence you mended?

We listened to your stories---the baby calf
born at midnight, the year grasshoppers
hovered in clouds. Gentle rocking,
your laughter crackling like ice in a glass of tea.

When did you know it was enough?
The mesquites and land without rain
the toil without help
the nights with the transistor radio.

Did each wide acre ground you
or bind you to a post?
Did the roots feel smooth like mother’s milk---
or brittle beneath young and naked toes?

A black-breasted hen lays her eggs, you said,
where they're meant to hatch
And vine tomatoes, born in barely green
are known to burst red without the sun.

A lamp with no shade
shines just the same and---
everything's where it should be.

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