Today's poem is by Vern Rutsala

The Dusty Smell of Hay

Locking the barn door
should have been the title
of that chapter of our

lives. Our horses were
always running away,
leaving us with the dusty

smell of hay and regret.
We knew we couldn't
alter the past but we

kept locking that damn door
anyway, feeling more
foolish each time, straining

to hear the hoofbeats
in the distance, confusing
them with the pulse in our ears

and kicking ourselves
for our failures. Still, we kept
getting more horses

and better locks but in
the night the wind or
something picked the locks

and by morning the new
horses were always gone.
And this is just one lesson

we've never managed to learn.
And oh the sad stories we could
tell you of the spilled milk!

Copyright © 2009 Vern Rutsala All rights reserved
from Hubbub
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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