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Poem

Thankless job, I think watching
as Thurman tries to teach the young man

The lad sitting up
on the tractor
like a proud young pup
is full of piss and vinegar
half the time not listening
and half the time telling Thurman
how much he already knows...

As Thurman patiently slumps
his still-sturdy but ungainly frame
against the tractor
fingers strumming his red suspenders
a good-natured grin
slowly spreading
across his grizzled face
gleaming behind think glasses
I see a glint of soft amusement
at this grandiose greenhorn

Thurman has lived through
the Great Depression, and then
the horror of hand-combat
in World War II
one of three from his unit
to make it through-
so there is nothing this little ingrate
can possibly do or say
to break Thurman's composure today
he remains uncommonly calm
and utterly unflappable
a small chuckle slipping out
every now and then

And while the young man boasts
and blusters on about
his plans for next week
Thurman is mostly quiet, until
at length, asked about his plans
“Lord willing-
and the creek don't rise...”
he begins, knowing how
much could change by then

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