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The Eclipse

The Eclipse Parks Lanier Jr. Appalachian Heritage, Volume 14, Number 1, Winter 1986, p. 62 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1986.0068 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/440307/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 22:37 GMT from JHU Libraries MILKING How fondly they recall the chore of milking, Comparing notes on favorite cows And coldest days by the bursting udders, Half-asleep on a bony flank When the barn was a dark sanctuary From ice storms and deep snow Making the smell of manure more like summer. We had no refrigeration, they say, And the thought of warm milk curdles In your mouth while they tell of cats Catching it in streams straight from the teat. At the county fair you tried to milk a cow While old-timers laughed and barns Grew darker and snows sank deeper around you. Their memories will never be yours. The cow of your remembering went down the road With Jack and was sold for a handful of beans. —Parks Lanier, Jr. Far past bedtime they wake me up, Bundle blankets and take me out Across the porch to see the moon Transformed to blood and fire. Look well, they say, but http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Parks Lanier Jr. Appalachian Heritage, Volume 14, Number 1, Winter 1986, p. 62 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1986.0068 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/440307/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 22:37 GMT from JHU Libraries MILKING How fondly they recall the chore of milking, Comparing notes on favorite cows And coldest days by the bursting udders, Half-asleep on a bony flank When the barn was a dark sanctuary From ice storms and deep snow Making the smell of manure more like summer. We had no refrigeration, they say, And the thought of warm milk curdles In your mouth while they tell of cats Catching it in streams straight from the teat. At the county fair you tried to milk a cow While old-timers laughed and barns Grew darker and snows sank deeper around you. Their memories will never be yours. The cow of your remembering went down the road With Jack and was sold for a handful of beans. —Parks Lanier, Jr. Far past bedtime they wake me up, Bundle blankets and take me out Across the porch to see the moon Transformed to blood and fire. Look well, they say, but

Journal

Appalachian ReviewUniversity of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 2014

There are no references for this article.