Work

 

I was thinking about a poem

I wrote, one about

"Me and Colt" unloading a semi of hay.


"22 tons," I wrote. Colt and I

unloaded 22 tons of hay, really? Did we?

I found the ledger in which I kept ranch accounts.


December 11th, 1987, 21.o25 tn hay

check #4333 made out

to Lipscomb Livestock Forage out of Liberal, KS.


It looks like we did it, unloaded a lot of hay that day,

if not 22 tons, near enough. 

Looking through the ledger I see dozens


of such entries. It's what I did, what we did, for a living.

I couldn't do it today. That is to say, I could, but I'd rather not. 






Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 345 times
Written on 2017-09-14 at 04:46

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
So many things we have done which seem almost unbelievable. I worked unloading containers at one stage in my life. We all stood in a line throwing boxes to each other. Taking turns being the ones inside the hot container. Hard work. You brought the feeling back to me.
2017-09-19


Kathy Lockhart
Oh, yes. Sweaty, sticky, hot and just plain miserable way of being. Giving birth was a bit worse for me I think. ;)
2017-09-17


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
If you really still can, thirty years later, you're a better man than I.
2017-09-14


Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
I'd like to have that kind of job. It must be fun.
2017-09-14



Work, life!
It all seems hard and good!
2017-09-14



Lotsa hard work, ranch or farm.
2017-09-14


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Jim, oh when we younger a long long time ago
now time now we are older than those
times of the now

Ken
2017-09-14



it's not a nine to five job! i wish i had the same life as you somehow
2017-09-14