
ISBN-13 : 978-1948920216
Hay Time Again
They come with trucks and machines
that look like star wars silhouettes when
standing in the dusk. One such rig just
fits through the gate. A heat wave comes
with it and they cut the chest-high grass
and rake it in rows, bale it a day later after
the dew dries off it. Once it rained on the
cut hay, and they re-raked it, turned it over
said it wouldn’t be as good, baled it any
way, big round bales. I used to get horse
hay, square bales, not so long ago, and my
wife drove truck and trailer while I stacked
the bales, high on the trailer. I could do that
then, and if my life depended on it, maybe
now, too, but slower. A hundred bales
might take too long, it might rain on some
and I would leave them to melt, their
shapes becoming like resting dogs, then
like grave mounds of small people. Hey?