Sixteen Minutes of Hail

Wiping his cheek on his sleeve,
blowing his nose with his thumb,
I saw a farmer cry.
Big man who never cried before -
In front of me at least -
beaten down by the weather.

He'd lost his wheat.
The rain so hard it was too wet to harvest.
The rain for days until the wheat - it sprouted in the heads.
And he, with his uncomplaining stoicism, saying,
"No use getting upset. You can't do anything about the weather."

And I'm thinking,
"You can't do anything about the weather, farm operator,
and you can't do anything about the commodities market,
and you can't do anything about the government.
No use getting all Rush-beyond-Limbaugh irritated about it.

But I was with him on a hot and sultry day when ice came down from the clouds
and in just sixteen minutes - sixteen minutes of hail -
his entire crop of apples:
wiped out.

And he didn't speak.
His mouth hung open and his eyes got wider and -
sixteen minutes of hail - and then
he cried.
A man with shoulders big enough to carry seven
hundred acres of wheat and apples
all broke up over a little frozen water.

I wanted to look away
like this was a circus freak show
and he's the naked man
with a thousand body piercings, and
it makes you look and stare
at the man whose children's college tuition just got
stripped away in sixteen minutes;
the man whose annual mortgage payment just got
torn to shreds - nine hundred sixty seconds;
the man whose wife will tell him, "We don't really need that new carpet and furniture.
We don't really need that vacation trip you promised me."

Go ahead and cry then
you big weather target cold front from the north low pressure system centering on
seven hundred acres of wheat and apples
Congratulations.

All the neighbors saying,
"Nice weather we're having"
"Hot enough for you?"
And you, right in the middle, get left out.

He's whispering, "No use. No use."
Turning from me to hide the red eyes.
Shoulders shaking like shocks over speed bumps.
One last breath.
One last, "No use."

And I'm thinking,
"You can't do anything about the weather."
You can't do anything about the past mistakes stupid things you said to your neighbors money you loan to your friends and relatives SAT score high school transcripts break a dish dent a fender not enough money coming in this month and she don't love you anymore and he don't even know you exist.
You can't do anything about your own body growing old and wearing out, farm operator.

And then, again he didn't speak.
Sun came out.
Clouds moved on.
And he looked at me and he said,
"No use getting upset.
You can't do anything about the weather."