SACRED SPACE IN
A MISERABLE HALLWAY
They're bringing in the sheaves again:
farmers in bib overalls, and the mighty
smelling tractor roars. Birds plane o'er
the empty field, while two rabbits run
the other way.
-
What's to be made of the everyday?
Fabric of a one-in-a-million life, or
merely another day? Polarity reigns.
The sun either shines or the darkness
rules. Someone invented lights, but
only for fools.
-
I stand idle, watching; Plumes of
smoke rise up from John Deere
while the pressures of acceleration
flatten the high-top grass.
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