Boyhood on a Mountain Farm

Bluegrass and clover
Blanket steep Appalachian hills and valleys
Greening in spring
Feeding cattle and sheep

They graze gain and bear calves and lambs
On our least-sloping land we plow harrow and plant
Alfalfa for hay
Then pray for rain

In May
We mow rake bale and haul
Hay to the barn
Stack it in the loft

Helped by classmates
Paid 50 cents per hour
Building muscle for football
Hoping rain holds off

Twice more in summer or sometimes three times
Depending on rainfall
We mow rake bale and haul alfalfa
Filling the barn loft

Labor Day brings football practice
Then Friday night games
Saturday drive-in movie In double dates
Then to Easter’s Drive-In for milkshakes

In November we begin
Feeding the hay
To the cattle and sheep
Spread it on the pasture

Haul it out from the barn loft
On the same trailer we hauled it to the barn on
Pulled by the John Deere MT
Pops bought on my 12th birthday for $1200 in 1950

Then on Christmas Eve
The lambs began arriving
In the barn with Alfalfa in its loft
There I spent winter nights midwifing

My favorite farm job
Watching the miracle
Of birth and first suckling
Of singles, twins and triplets

Never since have I felt closer
To God than in the lambing barn
Helping a ewe give birth
Start her lamb’s life with her colostrum

I look for front hooves and lamb’s nose
To appear from her vulva
Sometimes I must reach in to grasp a hoof
Pull it forward

In minutes from birth
The lamb stands bleats and searches
For its mother’s teat to suckle
Stimulated by her licking its afterbirth

I dip the lamb’s navel
In iodine to prevent infection
Soon it bleats satisfaction
Next morning I turn it out on pasture with its mom

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