It is the Friday of Labor Day weekend. What better time to hear from a working man's poet, who understood the travails of hard labor, day in and day out.
Here is another poem by Joseph Kalar, International Falls' own poet from the depression era.
Testament
In the lean earth there is nothing,
Nothing by Life, a ball of horse's dung,
And I, a sparrow.
To my pecking and stratching here, leave me.
Leave me alone now.
Who can tell but that I will find
Some goodly oats to be uncovered here.
from "Papermill, poems, 1927-1935" edited by Ted Genoways
0 comments:
Post a Comment