Ode to a Hoe

Posted by Dave Bonta on May 18, 2008 (last modified at 8:03 pm, 5/18/08)
This entry is part 17 of 29 in the series Odes to Tools

What begins with this
singular L?
New worms, certainly,
from the splitting
of their parent self.
Whole new cities
of aerobic bacteria.
Stones from rocks.
Sprouts of pigweed, lamb’s-quarters,
purslane, dock: seeds
that had lain dormant for decades
until the hoe stirred them
into life.
This italic L spells
hills for yams,
channels for irrigation water,
a level bed for flowers.
Its thick tongue
uncovers an instant palate.
Luh, it says.
Luh   luh   luh   luh.
The shocks travel
up the aching arms.


Series Navigation«Ode to a Spirit LevelOde to Tin Snips»
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5 Responses to Ode to a Hoe

  1. dale says:
    May 18, 2008 at 8:37 pm

    (o)

    Reply
  2. Joe Hyam says:
    May 19, 2008 at 1:15 pm

    After hoeing this morning I read this tool poem with special appreciation.

    Reply
  3. Dave says:
    May 19, 2008 at 4:41 pm

    Oh yeah? Cool! Thanks for visiting.

    Reply
  4. Joan says:
    May 19, 2008 at 5:20 pm

    Love this one, Dave! It’s timely too. Caught me in a luh luh lull recovering from vibrational voltage from hoeing the garden yesterday. Ouch! Now I’m inspired, however. I guess the ‘L’ got me started on this one. (Grin). No double entendre intended in the title.

    Chicaghoe

    Upheaver of crazed mud
    Flipper of turf and rocks
    Archeologist of leaf layers
    Mincer of soil nubs and worms
    Channeler of the dirt divide
    Father to the plow
    Feeder to the nation
    Hoe! Hoe! Hoe!

    Reply
  5. Dave says:
    May 19, 2008 at 9:23 pm

    Ha ha ha! That’s excellent. I’m sure Sandberg would have approved.

    Reply

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