Poetry Sunday

An interesting mental exercise is to look at simple things and decide what you can deduce from them. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle took this to extremes with his famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, but anyone can try to draw conclusions from the things they observe, even if they're not a high-functioning sociopath. In this poem, former Poet Laureate Ted Kooser looks for the stories to be told by an old and decrepit farmhouse ...

Abandoned Farmhouse 

by Ted Kooser 

He was a big man, says the size of his shoes
on a pile of broken dishes by the house;
a tall man too, says the length of the bed
in an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,
says the Bible with a broken back
on the floor below the window, dusty with sun;
but not a man for farming, say the fields
cluttered with boulders and the leaky barn.
A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wall
papered with lilacs and the kitchen shelves
covered with oilcloth, and they had a child,
says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.
Money was scarce, say the jars of plum preserves
and canned tomatoes sealed in the cellar hole.
And the winters cold, say the rags in the window frames.
It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.
Something went wrong, says the empty house
in the weed-choked yard. Stones in the fields
say he was not a farmer; the still-sealed jars
in the cellar say she left in a nervous haste.
And the child? Its toys are strewn in the yard
like branches after a storm-a rubber cow,
a rusty tractor with a broken plow,
a doll in overalls. Something went wrong, they say.


Things do go wrong, so they say. Sometimes, sadly, on a national scale.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo