Once a place where I was - Shakespeare's Monkeys

once a place where I was

(it was 1965 on a barley farm just outside Dillon, Montana.)

once a place where I was

once I worked
for seven dollars a day.
hard, long work
in the hills of Montana.

we woke before the light.
it was cool there.
the middle of July
and one morning
there was snow on the ground.

there was a truck
and a tractor.
we hauled pipes
and irrigated fields
of barley from dark to dark.
then we slept.

all this time later I remember
once a place where I was.
seven dollars a day
in the hills of Montana.

Alcuin of York -

I find it difficult to critique this. The style is much like Carl Sandburg's, which I never cared for generally, though a few of his works appeal to me. This is, however, a matter of personal taste - like saying that I don't care for Pollock's drippings, though they are certainly thoughtfully accomplished. That kind of assessment is not technical, and if I ran down what I think are the technical flaws here, my personal tastes would intrude. That would not be objective - but then, perhaps art isn't objective anyway.

Alcuin

Norm -
Thanks for your kind comments.

Tracey -

Hey Norm,

I feel like something is missing here, like the word-painting as is isn't "enough" yet. I like the straight, simple approach to a straight, simple way of living but there is no *pop* for me in a moment, subtle or loud, of truth, insight or emotion.

The line about snow reads like a set-up for something (Snow - in summer? Wow! What did you do?) that doesn't arrive.

Because the poem overall is so quiet, the super-quiet ending is too quiet for me.Overall, you have the set-up for the big poetic-give; you just have to figure out what that is.

Aphasic -
Norm - I can see Tracey's point here, not much going on beyond description, an almost impersonal retrospective.
I'm just wondering if that was your point here - the mundane nature of that period & place, an emphasis on routine (it was/there was/we hauled/we slept). That would be consistent with your last stanza virtually repeating the first - as if to say 'What more is there to say?'. I don't know much about Montana, or barley farms, but I imagine the landscape is (in)distinctly homogenous, and the lifestyle somewhat uneventful. As Tracey remarked, snow on the ground in the middle of July would probably be regarded as a freakish phenomenon, but you choose not to elaborate. Is that a device designed to highlight by means of understatement? Is that the reason why these memories persist? Or is it a function of repetition, similar to the 'learning by rote' scenario?
Some feedback on the feedback please Norm

Norm -

It is simply a remembrance, and its significance, such as it may be, is just the memory of innocence and simplicity in my life that came to a screeching, violent halt fewer than three years distant.

According to Eldon, the farm owner, the snow on the ground wasn't all that unusual up there in the high country. It melted before ten in the morning, but the chill stayed until early afternoon when the clouds left. I remember those days with the clarity of thin air and startling light.

Aphasic -

That's fair enough Norm. I don't know what set of cirumstances resulted in this innocence coming to a "screeching, violent halt fewer than three years distant", though I imagine it would have some connection with military service, taken in the context of your other pieces on that subject.
But reading this piece in isolation, the reader would not be aware of that contrast, without the reference you've given there.
Thanks Norm - I was wondering about the significance of the poem - hope you don't mind being asked...