“The Farm Boy Rides a Yamaha,” Ensign, Aug. 1977, 7
The Farm Boy Rides a Yamaha
Skinny shoulders blistered by the sun,
freckles prominent across his serious face,
the ten-year-old herds slow cows
toward the milking-shed.
Back and forth behind them
the eager dogs bound and skip
watching for a sign,
but he gives none.
He is wearing blue and gold,
silk and leather,
numbered helmet that glitters in the sun.
The guttural lowing of the cows
are roars from great excited crowds
of watching people.
These tufts of tussock
veering his machine aside
are hillocks on his dangerous
and lonesome victory ride,
when, the gate ahead a checkered flag,
he guns into the cloud of dust
to roar across the finish line
bettering the record time.
Then,
wiping his face
on his scarf of silk,
he bails the cows
and prepares to
milk.