The Gleeful Farm, Minter Bridge Road
Logan in Retirement
It’s steep on one side of the river,
houses rise up that have fences
and beyond is the small town, Marsing.
And Logan lives at the edge by a field
often planted with corn. In the fall
the corn is tall and a dark dry yellow
and harvested and then the field is flat
with short stocks, and the inhabitants
of the government subsidized housing
are tired, most are older people, most
keep to themselves, watch each other’s
backs, help each other at times, an extra
jug of this or that, or a ride through the orchards
to Nampa to see a relative.
Logan’s reached a point of infinite fatigue,
no longer reaches much for his guitar,
his fingers have atrophied,
his shoulders hurt. No longer seeking
the adventure of the open road, flying
by immense wheat fields to reach a city
that promises work, a venue with guitars.
He’s retreated now to a quiet walk
from his apartment down the shaded path
to that cowboy town, quiet most times,
not caring about the big houses
of his prosperous neighbors or the rowdy
oppressors of noise on Saturday nights.
_____________
Zeke Sanchez
Review by Keith Hansen
I enjoyed all the Logan poems but will limit my comments to Logan in Retirement.
I like the poet’s voice. It seems to be measured and working in a way that is very present in the piece but does not call attention to itself. It focuses, rather than detracts from, the narrative’s details and, more importantly, the precise human individuality of its subject, Logan.
Logan’s story is in the hands of a friend, someone who reports faithfully, yet with an eye for authenticity as well as empathy.
As its title indicates, the poem resolves the trilogy into a place of rest. Logan has reached an interior repose untroubled by envy of status or bitterness about lost youth.