Barn Clothes | Poem by Michael Walsh
By TED KOOSER
Enumclaw Courier Herald Columnist
November 12, 2012 · 4:30 PM
Our sense of smell is the one sense most likely to transport us through time. A sniff of fried fish on a breeze and I can wind up in my grandmother’s kitchen sixty years ago, getting ready to eat bluegills. Michael Walsh, a Minnesotan, builds this fine poem about his parents around the odor of cattle that they carry with them, even into this moment.
Barn Clothes
Contact Enumclaw Courier Herald Columnist Ted Kooser at editor@courierherald.com.
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