Final bid
By Paula Glover

Rust and mold grow on the hay rake,
but it is still worthy.
What am I bid? Tell me your price ...
$1,000 ... $500 ... $250, open at $250.
Poking and prodding, with tape measure and experience
The farmers raise their hands for a bid.

Ball caps worn facing forward
snap-front, double-pocket western shirts
rain jacket, blue jeans, work boots;
Uniform of the day.

Occasional cowboy hat stands out
topping a long duster or yellow rain slicker.
Muck boots - known as Wellingtons in other places -
keep the mud away.

Box of chains can be had for 15 bucks, you never knew when you need tow chains;
Backpack sprayer for 7 dollars, keep those weeds at down;
Old wrenches in metal tool box with hand soldered curved handle a steal at 13 dollars.
Farmers can find a place for the otherwise useless.

What am I bid?
Allis-Chambers tractor - hard to start, but it runs OK.
(Just like me, jokes the auctioneer.)
$10,000 ... $7,000 ... bids start at $5,000,
about what it was new 25 years ago.
But it's still worthy.

Auctioneer takes his time
rainy days keep the men from the fields
time to loaf, have a hot dog
and poke among the leavings of another person’s life.

Farmer in grain elevator cap
put off cataract surgery
until all the hay was in;
82, he climbs down from the tractor
for the last time.