After-Orts #90

Alley Violinist
                by Robert Lax

if you were an alley violinist

and they threw you money 
from three windows

and the first note contained
a nickel and said:
when you play, we dance and
sing, signed
a very poor family

and the second one contained
a dime and said:
i like your playing very much,
signed
a sick old lady

and the last one contained
a dollar and said:
beat it,

would you:
stand there and play?

beat it?

walk away playing your fiddle?


No Tool or Rope or Pail 
                      by Bob Arnold

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.