January 14, 2018Speaking of Stable Geniuses
I’ve only known one. It was my uncle
the dairyman who taught me to dip one finger
into a pail of freshly drawn milk and offer it
to syrup-eyed calves, who sucked greedily
for small reward then followed my hand
into the pail over and over until they learned
that milk could be freely lapped!
a miracle in the eyes of us youngsters
and genius, I thought, on the part of my uncle
who called all his look-alike Holsteins by name
and taught each one which slot was her own
among identical stalls in the milking stable.
It was he who could find a calf newly dropped
in the field where its mother thought it well-hidden
and it was he who could stand outside
the barn door and call toward the outer pasture
come boss to bring the herd home safe.
All this I thought to be genius
but I never heard him say so.
He just quietly did his work.