February 18, 1925

"Hardweed Path Going" is a poem by A. R. Ammons  (February 18, 1926 to February 25, 2001). It looks squarely at the life of a farmer. He talks about killing a hog he loves, which happens the day of the first freeze of the season. And a bird he has been feeding grits.

...
The dead-purple woods hover on the west.
I know those woods.
...

...where the wild myrtle grows,
    I let my jo-reet loose.
A jo-reet is a bird. Nine weeks of summer he
sat on a well-bench in a screened box,
A stick inside to walk on,
.....

    Better turn him loose before
cold weather comes on.
    Doom caving in
    inside
    any pleasure, pure
    attachment
    of love.

Beyond the wild myrtle, away from cats I turned him loose
and his eye asked me what to do, where to go;
....
Don't look at me. Winter is coming.
Disappear in the bushes...
....
Go south. Grits is not available in any natural form.
Look under leaves...
....

    They're good woods.
But lay me out if a mourning dove far off in the dusky pines
     starts.
....


Lines from A. R. Ammons' "Hardweed Path Going."