Simply Poetic

Abandoned FarmhouseByTed Kooser
He was a big man, says the size of his shoeson a pile of broken dishes by the house;a tall man too, says the length of the bedin an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,says the Bible with a broken backon the floor below the window, dusty with sun;but not a man for farming, say the fieldscluttered with boulders and theleaky barn.A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wallpapered with lilacs and the kitchen shelvescovered with oilcloth, and they had a child,says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.Money was scarce, say the jarsof plum preservesand canned tomatoes sealed inthe cellar hole.And the winters cold, say the rags in the window frames.It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.Something went wrong, says the empty housein the weed-choked yard. Stones in the fieldssay he was not a farmer; the still-sealed jarsin the cellar say she left in a nervous haste.And the child? Its toys are strewn in the yardlike branches after a storm—a rubber cow,a rusty tractor with a broken plow,a doll in overalls. Something went wrong, they say