Skill Set

I know nothing much. Couldn’t fix your Toyota.
Wouldn’t be confident handling your chain saw.

And if you left me and the horse alone, one of us
might get hurt, or both. I love books and ideas,

and potatoes, and certainly understand a bit
about people, but my understanding is dwarfed

by confusion. What it amounts to is that I feel
beauty all over, almost everywhere, the grass

growing from a mud puddle earlier today,
the shadows shifting on distant mountains,

the sad lady walking her happy dog. It won’t fix
your pickup, won’t bring the wood in for winter,

won’t giddyap. Odds are I’ll die with ignorance
beside my bed. Yet if I were allowed to linger after

the end and take the urn out across the meadow,
I’d probably excel at spreading my ashes. Once

or twice, maybe on a million occasions, I’ve done this
for a friend. I can carry a tune. I can cry while I sing.

I can carry a tune and set the tune down gently
when the time for setting tunes down gently comes.