Enchanted is the hour
before the break of night:
Illuminated lies the fading day
with weight upon our hearts
as darkening dream.
In stainless blue
the skylark tweets
as if a mockingbird
jeered the futility
of our souls' striving.
The corn stands bold
amidst the waning heat
awaiting scythe and mill
nurturing those who can
no longer feast on words.
A golden glowing eve:
corn poppies' fragile sway
in sighing wind
caught in those countless ears.
You are a summer field.
