The Purpose of Poetry

This old man grazed thirty head of cattle
In a valley just north of the covered bridge
On the Mississinewa, where the reservoir
Stands today. Had a black border collie
And a half-breed sheep dog with one eye.
The dogs took the cows to pasture each morning
And brought them home again at night
And herded them into the barn. The old man
Would slip a wooden bar across both doors.
One dog slept on the front porch, one on the back.

He was waiting there one evening
Listening to the animals coming home
When a man from the courthouse stopped
To tell him how the new reservoir
Was going to flood all his property.
They both knew he was too far up in years
To farm anywhere else. He had a daughter
Who lived in Florida, in a trailer park.
He should sell now and go stay with her.
The man helped bar the doors before he left.

He had only known dirt under his fingernails
And trips to town on Saturday mornings
Since he was a boy. Always he had been around
Cattle, and trees, and land near the river.
Evenings by the barn he could hear the dogs
Talking to each other as they brought in
The herd; and the cows answering them.
It was the clearest thing he knew. That night
He shot both dogs and then himself.
The purpose of poetry is to tell us about life.

Jared Carter

The part of the farmer killing his 2 farm dogs and then himself is a bit upsetting. He killed himself because he couldn’t leave his farm because it was all he ever knew, and I suppose he killed his dogs because he didn’t want them to have to deal with the heartbreak of losing their master which was their only friend. Also, because the farm, and herding cattle, and helping the old man was all they knew too, and I’m guessing that they were old too, because it must’ve taken years for the farmer to teach the dogs to herd the cattle and things like that. They would’ve been confused like the farmer would as well, if they had not died before leaving the farm.