Barney F. McClelland
LINES WRITTEN IN MIDSUMMER
My neighbors, who on this heat-blasted day,
Feel it incumbent to dither noisily
In their yards, braying loudly across the way.
Their mowers unleashed, chew on fescue and bay.
Hammering things, though I can't imagine what,
Their errant, shrieking children run amok—
Raucous miscreants trample without a thought
A summer's work my spade's labor's wrought.
Even early dawn offers no respite
Against their frenzied, heathen stirring storm.
Will peace descend upon the fall of night?
Not likely, the petrol-scented charcoal warns.
—Not even the cicada's buzz can relieve
—For it is barbeque and beer this eve.
TO MY DAUGHTER, KATIE, AT THE FEIS
This everlasting day of being young,
corralling with your friends against the wall—
fresh-shod fillies from the ferrier's stall,
clopping in hard shoes, frisky and high strung.
Your legs long and muscle rippling to new,
displaying quiet surety and grace,
unsteady, but eager to course the race.
Impetuous and confident are you!
And for the keen-eyed man who knows the truths
of horses, keep your sight on the long one
with sorrel mane, she's ready for the run—
clear-eyed, strong-willed, disinclined to lose.
—Surprised and delighted with your ardor,
—proud, I am, to have you as my daughter!
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