Dipperful, and: Cow, and: Visitation, and: Legions

FIVE POEMS by Fred Chappell¡^ -±) Dipperful ^- ^j "Help yourselfto a drink. It's toted fresh." My hand rose in the water to meet my hand And in its shadow his sweet spring appeared. Mica-grains swarmed out ofthe hill-womb, A funnel cloud of sand trailed a crawfish. I drank the hill. Scatter ofsand-motes sparkled When I launched the gourd's blind belly back in the bucket. And on my tongue the green hill sprouted moss. Went back to jaw and sit the afternoon With thé old man on his porch that shaded his hounds Beneath, those spotted lumps of doze and quiver. I sat down easy. We sat and watched the cornfield Across the creek get tall. "Been walking far?" "Not half as far," I said, "as my feet think." He nodded and thumbed a twisted cigarette shut. "Used to," he said, "I'd wear the daylight out, I'd trudge till my cartridges was gone. I shot To death I swear to God all the pokeweed in Johnson's pasture. That would keep me going. A boy will walk to the end ofthe world, not noticing." "Sure. But when you had to walk to work—" "—They couldn't shove me along with a twelve-pound sledge... But ifwe didn't have the triflingness To think back on, nobody would come this far." "How far?" "Seventy-five years this December." He spat, and watched it roll up in the dust, ,, iy Leanedback, and thought the thoughts an old man thinks. ^^j . [G^?^ Ifelt myselfslideofftheedgeofhismind. s^J 43 Dreaming, he spoke. "What hinders my sleep most Is my daddy's boots. Seems like they come sailing At me when I shut my eyes, bobbing offthe floor by his bedside. Great heavy things That felt as hard as iron when I was a youngun. The way he kept them candled, rubbing and rubbing At night to keep the water out, the way The upper hooks would shine like a black cat's eyes. I'd ponder on them, how strong I'd have to be When I got growed to march my boots along. Can't I just hear him puffing like when he'd bend Over to lace them to the top? His hair Flopped down on his face. He'd straighten up And stare at nothing, at the day that was coming ahead. "I remember one time I reached my hand in there. Jerked it right out again. That surprised me, How hot his boots got, hot as fresh ashes. Ai! day long the old man's walking in {ire: That's what I thought, and thought I didn't want To olden and walk in fire the way he did. And I don't know I did, the way he did. I never got married, you see, never had To grub for other people. I worked enough To keep myself sufficient peace and quiet. The world ain't all that lonesome for more MacReadies. Now I'm the busted-down codger I knew I'd wind up, But not a burden to some old muley woman." He spat again and a swoon of flies unsettled, Then settled back. The early afternoon Began to climb the fields. "I've talked too much," He said. "I wish I didn't talk so much." When he said that, the silence had its say. Cow In the night the belly opened, the flesh yawned in starlight with the sound of a gate swung on its hinges for the final time. She lies at the edge of the field like a tent washed out of the sea. Birds darker than ravens rise from her bones. 44 Visitation The ocean's blue smokes seize the capsized town, the visions of drowned sailors overtake the harbor and its sullen wares. Mother, 1 thought ofyou when the hull stove in, when the planet came round on my head like a moon ofpensive waters. A rainbow oil-slick ribbons the current which the roar and slather of storms confuse; the silent men spin down. I feel like somebody has shipwrecked for me. Who is the wind that is calling to the sleepers? The dark town's...