AUCTIONS ARE PART of my rural DNA. As such, a photo I took ten years ago of an auction barn on the edge of Montgomery, Minnesota, inspired me to write a poem. I entered “Sunday Afternoon at the Auction Barn” in the 2014 The Talking Stick writing competition. It earned second place in poetry and publication in The Talking Stick 23, Symmetry, a literary journal published by the northern Minnesota-based Jackpine Writers’ Bloc. It also earned the praise of noted Minnesota poet and poetry judge Margaret Hasse. She’s authored six full-length collections of poetry.
First, my poem:
Sunday Afternoon at the Auction Barn
Shoulder brushes shoulder as bidders settle onto plank benches
in the tightness of the arched roof auction barn,
oil stains shadowing the cement beneath their soles,
where a farmer once greased wheel bearings on his Case tractor.
The auctioneer chants in a steady cadence
that mesmerizes, sways the faithful fellowship
to raise hands, nod heads, tip bidding cards
in reverent respect of an aged rural liturgy.
Red Wing crock, cane back rocker, a Jacob’s ladder quilt,
Aunt Mary’s treasured steamer trunk, weathered oars—
goods of yesteryear coveted by those who commune here,
sipping steaming black coffee from Styrofoam cups.
In her critique of my poem, Hasse wrote:
“I loved how you turned a humdrum occasion of bidding on antiques in an old barn into a closely observed and luminous occasion. The writer John Ciiardi once wrote that close and careful observation can “leak a ghost.” The surprise of your poem was the elevation of a commercial or material enterprise into a spiritual gathering—with a fellowship, liturgy, reverent respect, and people who commune. The ending—visual and concrete—was just right. The poet Franklin Brainerd wrote a poem something to the effect, “in a world of crystal goblets, I come with my paper cup.” There’s something both unpretentious and appealing about “sipping steaming black coffee from Styrofoam cups.”
Hasse’s comment reflects that she understands the spirit and spirituality of my poem. It was a joy to write. As I recall, the words flowed easily from my brain to keyboard to screen as I visualized bidders inside that auction barn, like congregants in a church. When poetry works like that, it’s magical and fulfilling and beyond beautiful.
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Poem copyrighted in 2014
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Lovely, Audrey. Congratulations.
Thank you, Beth Ann. It’s been 10 years since that poem was written and published. But it remains one of my favorite penned poems.
Thank you. loved the poem. I am wondering how your vision is doing and how the glasses are doing. keep us posted. lov kathyg
Thank you, Kathy, for appreciating my poem and for asking about my vision. I am adjusting to my prism-heavy glasses. They have mostly eliminated my double vision, which was the intent. That said, I am still struggling with the “fish bowl” effect of slanting and curving. It still seems like my plate will slide onto my lap when I’m sitting at the table eating. The glasses are also not working at all with my computer usage. I can’t tell if my photos are in focus and type is blurred. So I end up removing my glasses to work on my computer. I think this is just my new visual reality, although I may have my prescription checked to assure everything is right. I’m simply giving my eyes and brain a bit more time to adjust. If I’m not wearing my glasses, then I see double sometimes. So I know they are working.
Nice job, Audrey. I think it is beautiful that you portrayed rural auctions as spiritual events. Lovely.
Thank you, Beth. I know as a prairie native, who has likely attended a rural auction, you get it.
I love your poem with carefully chosen words to artfully describe a common rural event. Kudos to you. And as a sidenote Margrett Hasse once participated on a panel of writers/poets at the Northwoods Art and Book Festival. Her comments to your writing are invaluable.
Thank you, Sue. I always appreciate judge’s comments. They are helpful and validating. Just experienced that with a short story which won second place in The Talking Stick competition. That story publishes later this summer.
Ah, wonderful poem. Thanks for sharing it with us.
You are welcome, Valerie. Glad you enjoyed my auction poem.
Even though I’ve been a “city girl” for 50 years, my farmer heart was touched by every line of your beautiful poem. My eyes became teary at the image of the farmer greasing the wheel bearings of his tractor. (My farmer Daddy would have been expertly greasing his red tractor, not a Case.)
Thank you so much for sharing your lovely poem, Audrey.
You are welcome. I’m glad I brought back some wonderful thoughts of your farmer Daddy.
this is lovely and your words drew me right into the emotions and rhythms of the event. bravo
Thank you, Beth. I wasn’t actually at the auction, only imagined it, drawing on other auctions I’ve attended.
ah, I see. I have no in person experience, and you described it so well, I thought you were there
Visually I was there. I had this idea and then ran with it using what I know about auctions I’ve attended.
Thanks for sharing this lovely poem, Audrey. It’s been years since I was in an auction barn, but I can smell the air and feel the feelings. Congratulations on the publication. I follow The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc on Facebook. One of their recent posts was “Today I asked a 10-year-old girl if she wanted to be a writer. She answered: “I want to do the thinking part but not the writing part.” So she’s already a writer.” I tend to love the thinking part, but don’t seem to make enough time for the writing part. 😊
Writing assuredly takes time and discipline. I LOVE writing. It’s my passion. I’ve been published in The Talking Stick for the past 15 years or so with more work publishing in the upcoming volume. I’m delighted to have earned second place for a short story this year. I’ve garnered second places and honorable mentions in the past. Writing short stories has been a relatively new endeavor for me and I’ve found I really like the creative aspect of penning fiction.