Above us a sudden hovering,
shadow wings over corn fields.
Late spring-thaw mud sucks
on my black rubber boots.
Distance disappears to horizon
blank and bleak as this sky.
Green flies swarm the roads;
from far a screaming comes.
Souls drum like rain the dirt.
Great imagery in this one. A nice little terse and clean capture of a moment in time. Bravo!
ReplyDelete