late summer
we are sharing the depth of grasses
as a summer’s day turns away
slowly the russet darkens
in the deep loved fields of hay
lie still for so it is planted
just the way you wanted
the way you called my hands to till
the fertile flesh of a life laid still
and not one stemmed breeze uttered
the time of the day or the mood
of a sun so high that it doesn’t matter
that the ant queens on her brood
i’ll stop there now for the sun
as sunk deep into the west
for the feelings from long days won
are best now put to rest
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