a photo 1944

From a photo, 1944

There was a war on the menfolk had gone soldiering
a boy of thirteen and a half was ploughing the field
handling two grey geldings.
The soil looked rich and loose, perfect for Idaho spuds
the big delicious plant ideal for backing.
The boy wore overalls and was absorbed in his work
keeping the plough in a straight line and the horses
the right speed.
Further down the dale, the women near the barn were
hanging up washing, his brother was playing with his dog.
At a further distance, he could see the small town he had
been there, when he was little with his father buying
Ice- cream and drinking soda, I guess he was too old now
for this frivolity.
At the end of the field, he stopped to let the horses rest
he drank a bottle of cola and ate a sandwich feeling like
a proper grown-up, a man with great dignity.
He sat thinking of his father and uncle, who had gone to
War in a foreign field, Franch, he thought they had said
And joked about girls, wine and songs to the women’s
dislike; he too would join the army if the war lasted
but his mother said he was the only one to plough the field
he had to stay put for now.