Hop Harvest, Yakima Valley, Washington State

TOURING THE HOP HARVEST

WITH OUR SON, THE HOP DRYER,

IN THE YAKIMA VALLEY IN SEPTEMBER

Picked on the vine,

hung up, the blossoms

for the brewers.

What our son does in September.

Tim, grab your mother’s hand.

Going up steep wooden stairs.

Karen in orange vest

and yellow hard hat.

Chains and pulleys

the sounds of chains,

well-oiled chains,

Do the chains need more oil?

The music of chains

and short solos of each link.

Hops coming through on the vine.

Karen turns and looks at me. Can I?

You can. Light coming through

2x4s in the ceiling.

Fans everywhere,

Escalators for cleaning.

Up and down. Up and down.

It’s all about washing and cleaning the hops.

Heavy stuff falls, rolls down,

Conveyor belts now.

Like fish ladders.

Like slot machines.

Like figuring one’s odds with dice.

And the light coming through the building.

Karen in all of these colors

on her way to a quilting conference.

Keep a hold of your mother’s hands.

What?

Keep a hold of your mother’s hands.

What I say to my son:

I don’t want to lose my toes.

OSHA grandfathers us all.

Descending now.

Stairs like my father’s elevator in North Dakota.

From the same era.

Workers everywhere cleaning up.

It’s all pressure time.

It’s all dice.

Dice and beauty, too.

Light green blossoms

and clanging chains.

Heat and wind from the kiln

for the effervescent flower

and the world’s great thirst.

Jim Bodeen

9/11/2016--22 September 2016