Published Spring 2007
 
marketable skills
Company Golf Tournament
If only I could golf,
I could offer something
to this new world I've been thrown into
I can backburn a scrub pile
so no flame will lick
any part of the land
it's not supposed to,
scorch a border of black,
15 feet wide,
around piles of dead limbs,
rotting leaves and tangled thistles,
then a bit of gas,
a far flung match,
wet sacks and water tank nearby
just in case
and I can skin a dead calf
whose mother desperately needs a mouth to feed,
carry the still warm sadness
to another bawling babe,
tie the hide
onto its bone edged, weakening body,
tie it securely but not too tight,
its belly must be able to grow,
its mouth able to easily suck
the warm full bag
of the dead calf's mother
as she eagerly smells the familiar scent.
I can give a cow a calf,
give a calf a life.
I can transform a barren 160 acres
into an amazing prairie ocean,
a feast for any eyes,
curl blackness beneath my plough
and, while the earth's still tender and willing,
fill it with slim slivers of magical flax,
then pray soft prayers
until, God willing, the sky's tears
flow upon the land,
release, expand, ignite the seed
until it blooms blue and bountiful
fills my eyes with morning heaven,
until autumn nudges summer's warmth aside
and it freezes at just the right time,
so I can gather in the waves of wonder
so, if what you need
is someone who can
get a bad business under control,
or make brutal decisions,
or build a risky business,
or golf,
well, I might be able
to learn to hold a club. |
