Found the Gold Painted Yoke

[nibbed]

Found the Gold Painted Yoke


Heavy
and crackled,

three long
giant headed
nails

held it safely
in oak rafters
for more than 70 years:

Great-grandfather
bravely drudge-plowed
that we might one day live.

They say
he once drank
from a pottery jug,

later fiddled stories
about salvation
as his great wife
swept dirt floors.

East St. Louis
was the Big Town

its long trip
might have been
worth finding
a can of paint
abandoned in a heap:

to perk them both,
He brushed smooth colour
on the wood of his worn,
rust kissed yoke,

soon finding itself
serving as both ornament
and liveliest jig,

even the old mare
could hear
just how special she was
through his precious reel.