earth note 301

1.
the road mapped itself
from what i remember
out past the last hay bales
the prairies started rolling
the sun kept a round face
until dusk
even the crows seemed
to have their directions set
looking to bed down
on a distant bluff
like a call from the forest
before the dark
covered
everything

2.

the road had a unique vibration
of its own
empty & quiet for the most part
except when transitioning
between asphalt & concrete
the town lights came up suddenly
and then passed
like a silent acknowledgment

3.

farmers in coveralls
a crowded diner
stress on a dozen faces
promises broken
by bank notes
& inflated seed panaceas
all of it parched
like a river diverted
for the grease pits

4.

the road swayed

to the wind
western clouds breaking apart
wheat fields laboring
without hands
kneeling over
to touch
shadows
& loam

--- e b bortz