ALMOST TO TONGANOXIE
The herd on the north side of the highway—
I noticed to my minor shock last week—
has calved. Where
before it consisted
of uniformly-sized brown beasts,
sometimes all facing the same direction,
sometimes chest-deep in the cattle pond
or curving around to stay in the shade,
the herd is now made of unlike elements—
half the grown ladies, and half
knob-kneed calves who tend to stay close.
I can’t help but imagine
the ladies are feeling unweighted
and more like themselves. I can’t
stop enjoying the sight of calf and mother,
familiar from Arkansas days—
heaving their heads
into their mothers’ udders just before nursing—
it's like when I see a child close in age
to one of my own children
and certain gestures are from a script I know.
Meanwhile the herd on the south side
of the interstate is still pregnant.
The big ladies lumber, and I can’t help imagining
how their feet must hurt.
Calve, we say,
of a glacier, when pieces break off into the ocean,
and it is like that with the cows, as if
a brown shard of their own flesh
has dropped free to run on its own.
The still-pregnant herd gets moved, the pasture
is empty, weeks go by.
Then one day, the herd is back:
mamas and babies,
large and small, all in a lovely,
mutually-resembling shade of brown.
Dargie, so sorry for the delay! I just had a chance to read your latest. Here are my initial responses/thoughts!
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, I love the title—the sounds are lovely and interesting. Just the word Tonganoxie is so evocative! (it brings to mind that line from the song “Willin’”— I’ve been from Tucson to Tucumcari/Tehachapi to Tonopah)
I was fascinated by the use of “calve” in regards to glaciers. I had never heard that before! Your use of it here is brilliant!
All of your descriptions of the herd’s movements, etc., are very well observed. I can see those cows!!
What I wonder about:
When you are “imagining” what the cows must feel like after giving birth, for instance, I think you could go for it, and say right out something like “I know what it is to feel lighter.” Go for direct comparison.
I really like the play of half/calf/calve...There’s the bifurcated herd of cattle, separation of babies from moms, shards of glaciers breaking away. And even the highway is divided—in two at least. In your closing stanza, I wonder if there is another way to say ”mutually-resembling”? That term really struck me. It might be perfect, but it stood out for me upon first read.
I think you have another poem which is just about ready to join the others in your sequence, Dargie! Thanks for sharing this one!
Hi Dargie,
ReplyDeleteOnce again I'm struck by your poem and its unassuming tone. I agree with Claire that the word Tonganoxie is so surprising and interesting, and I appreciated the sounds that echo in the first half--like "beasts," "deep" and knob-kneed." I wonder whether you might think about replacing the phrase-- "I can't help but imagine" (line 10) with something like "Perhaps now/the ladies are feeling unweighted"- I also found myself stopping at "I can't stop enjoying"... maybe something a little more neutral (?) like "I notice" 'the sight of calf and mother'-- (or 'I remember').
In the second case of "I can't help imagining" in stanza 2-- why not just state it?-- "The big ladies lumber; their feet must hurt."
I enjoy the idea/image of a whole and its individual parts which are in themselves wholes. (Herd/calves) The image of a "shard" is too sharp/brittle for me in this context Though it's a little weird-- why not "a brown side (or) slice of their own flesh/has dropped free." Then you are making a more obvious but subtle appeal to veganism...if that's something you want as part of this poem's aura.
Again, like Claire, the "mutually-resembling" of the last line stuck out for me. It's interesting but I don't feel like it's the right word... somehow "assembling" and disassembling" came to my mind. Don't know if you can do something with those words.
Thanks for this poem, Dargie. Hope you and your family enjoy the summer!