Oxen
My friend Anita who is visiting NS posted a photo of her son, Finn, at the exhibition looking at oxen. It reminding me of an old poem.
The Pull
oxen ready
ropes attached
smell of manure and sweat
heat and flies hover like a cloud
master nods: gee-ha
eyes steady, straight
in unison they push forward
muscles tight against the ropes
no movement
then the power is set free
1,000 pound weights
move an inch, two
I sit with words as weights
within me
listening for the gee – ha
with the effort of a prize team
I put the first word down
another
one at a time
I write this poem