Changing Aging Blogs
[Is your blog changing aging? Let us know at changingaging AT gmail DOT com]
- Ageless Marketing
- A Little Red Hen
- Better Than I Ever Expected
- Boomers
- Cab Drollery
- Duplex Planet
- EChronicles
- Ecumen's Changing Aging Blog
- EdlerAbuse.org
- Elder Law Issues
- Elder Storytelling Place
- Embodied Aging
- Global Ageing Network Blog
- Maya's Granny
- O'Folks
- Real Sage Advice
- Remembering Matters
- The Boomer Chronicles
- The Savvy Boomer
- The Story of Stuff
- Time Goes By
- Women's Voices for Change
Politics
- Daily Kos
- Grasping Reality
- The Huffington Post
- Talking Points Memo
- Think Progress
- The Washington Monthly
Media & Culture
- CJR Daily
- FAIR's Media Views
- FuturePundit
- Infomaniac: Behind the News
- Social Media
- Romenesko
- Truemors
Health & Science
News
Changing Aging Books
Search
Recent Posts
- ChangingAging.org Redesign -- Please Bookmark!
- Disaster in Buffalo
- Power Up Friday
- Blanchard WinsDays
- Kevin Frick writes...
- Monkhouse Monday
- Getting Closer!
- Blanchard WinsDays
- Power Up Friday
- My Pick for Health and Human Services
- Understanding Health Care Reform
- Facts Are Stubborn Things: Social Security Edition
- Monkhouse Monday
- Localism is Coming
- Krugman Can't Wait...
Recent Comments
Category Archives
- AGING 100
- Aging
- Culture
- Dementia
- Eden Alternative
- Erickson School
- Green House
- Health Policy
- Longevity
- Media
- Rockets
Monthly Archives
- February 2009
- January 2009
- December 2008
- November 2008
- October 2008
- September 2008
- August 2008
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- March 2008
- February 2008
- January 2008
- December 2007
- November 2007
- October 2007
- September 2007
- August 2007
Subscribe to this blog's feed
Blog Data
« You say you want a revolution? | Main | Power-Up: Stress Brain Drain »
October 2, 2008 |Permalink |Comments (0)
Work and Rest
Boo Lunt passes along this wonderfully evocative poem by Bob Arnold
The Poet in Question
No Tool or Rope or Pail
It hardly mattered what time of year
We passed by their farmhouse,
They never waved,
This old farm couple
Usually bent over in the vegetable garden
Or walking the muddy dooryard
Between house and red-weathered barn.
They would look up, see who was passing,
Then look back down, ignorant to the event.
We would always wave nonetheless,
Before you dropped me off at work
Further up on the hill,
Toolbox rattling in the backseat,
And then again on the way home
Later in the day, the pale sunlight
High up in their pasture,
Our arms out the window,
Cooling ourselves.
And it was that one midsummer evening
We drove past and caught them sitting
Together on the front porch
At ease, chores done,
The tangle of cats and kittens
Cleaning themselves of fresh spilled milk
On the barn door ramp;
We drove by and they looked up--
The first time I've ever seen their
Hands free of any work,
No tool or rope or pail--
And they waved.