Field Hands
My father asks me why I’m so dirty.
I say it’s because I played in the field with Becky.
I won’t tell him I worked from two until suppertime
helping pick potatoes with the Hammons in their field.
I won’t tell him how warm and rich the earth was
when Mr. Hammons plowed through, leaving dry ripples
for us to dig our hands in to fish for potatoes.
Or how we picked up six-inch worms and threw them at each other,
while tossing potatoes into ratty bushel baskets.
I like going home with limp hair,
stringy from the summer wind,
and a film of dust on my arms and legs.
When my mom asks me to wash the dishes,
I’ll say I’m too tired.
© 1992 Ann Kroeker
(As my friend Nancy Franson embarks on a Tweetspeak poetry dare, I am sharing this poem originally penned in 1987 or 1988, then modified slightly in 1992.)
You’re right. It’s not about the potatoes. But it’s lovely. I don’t know why it is, or how your poet brain structures these images in such a way that brings out their loveliness, but I certainly recognize the beauty.
Baby steps here; baby steps.
It’s been a long time since I’ve regularly penned poetry, yet it was my entree into writing. In college, most of my peers grew up in cities and suburbs, so when I started including rural themes in my work, the instructor and students grew intensely interested, hanging on every word, curious about every hay bale, every tadpole, every pony ride, every potato. I should write again, perhaps, keeping with the rural Midwestern themes?
Yes! That’s an excellent idea!
And I love this poem. In addition to the rural stuff, it’s also got great themes of childhood & distancing yourself from your parents (too tired to wash the dishes, not too tired to dig potatoes all day with your friend).
More potato poems!
I remember my college instructor saying it says much about the nature of work vs. play and work *as* play.
Thanks for sharing your poem, Ann and for linking to the poetry dare; what a wonderful idea! I’m sharing links to tweetspeak over at my blog (forthcoming post).
So glad you stopped by, Elisa! I’ll watch for your post.
Love this! I’m thinking I’d be inclined to say I’d been playing in the field, too–rather than I actually had fun working.
Yes, you should write more. I haven’t written any poetry for a while, either, and it was never all that good. But I’m thinking I should try again…
Let’s do it!
You are so naughty. But now you will be found out! Does your mom read your blog?
Oh, Mom knows. She knew then. She knew when I first published the poem. And she knows now that my kids do the same thing–they’ll help a friend clean a closet or wash dishes, but try getting them to pitch in around here? They’re…”too tired.” 🙂
Enjoyed the the scenery of this poem and the message that it related–although I don’t like thinking that my kids always had more fun doing work at someone else’s house rather than at home. But I guess I’m in good company.
Blessings,
Janis
Thank you for taking time to read, Janis, and comment. Why is it more fun to work hard helping others, but boring and tiring to do basic chores at home? I think I feel a little that way as an adult! 🙂
Hi Ann,
Visiting from Nancy’s post…what a delightful poem 🙂
Dolly, I’m delighted you stopped by–thank you for reading, and commenting.
SO Great, and so like a young girl. Helping a neighbor – but then I can just see her refusing to do the dishes.
Teen girls. {sigh} I was one, and now I’m a parent to three.
Actually, it’s fine. And when they say they’re too tired, I can relate; and if I can’t remember, I have this poem to remind me that I was once too tired, as well.