The Moles

. . . and a kinder and gentler me.

 

 

 

Moving in a restless exhaustion,

humps of earth that rise . . .

     John Haines, "The Field Of The Caribou"

 

 

Those years then I fought them for every inch

Of ground between the orchard and pasture,

Constant contentions, advances and retreats,

Following the ridges of their tunnels to where

They never really ended but only went deeper

Below the blackberry thicket, into the roots

Of the garden, not for beans and tomatoes but

Worms and grubs, caterpillars and cabbage moths.   

 

I should have left them then to their purpose and

Passages, buried and burrowing, blindly following 

Their hunger, as now I know is all everything does.

Having given my land to their care, I think of them

More kindly now, how in my absence they have

Breached their own tunnels, blinking the dust

From their eyes, and startling little by little into

The strange open ground, the unimaginable light.

 

 





Poetry by countryfog
Read 629 times
Written on 2013-08-29 at 17:03

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nicely done, Fog. The final image reminds me of one of Ken's First World War poem.
2013-09-01


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
We've never had moles but I've come to think of dandelions in much the same way. God gives everything a role to play. We spend lifetimes failing to understand that. Its only as we reach a time when we question the validity of our own purpose do we see the value in others.
2013-08-31


Rob Graber
Great job here; it gave me gooseflesh. Frankly, I think so profound a theme, and so great a final stanza, would bear greater length. Dare I hope for/request a stanza intervening between these two? I just can't help wanting a longer buildup to the wonderfully climactic line 9: "I should have left them to their purpose." Just a thought. In any case, a magnificent write as is!
2013-08-29



This is touching, this acceptance. It's natural that the unsightliness of the ruined lawn or pasture bothers us, disturbs our aesthetic sensibility. But it's more natural to let them be, to come to appreciate their role and their lives. And, they're so good at what they do, while we seem to botch everything we touch.

Once again you've caught it.
2013-08-29