A Mowed Field, After.

strange grammar, I know, but the way it was created...

Anklecut but running;

cornchildren at break,

dust and more dust.

Flight the cutting

of a lost sanctuary,

legless with shock

of life turned upside.

Stubble the blunt cut,

the wait of expectant

loam, under the farrow.

Reviews

[Coyote Song]

Brings to mind children playing in the cornfield and then suddenly their personal playground is gone, mowed down. I really enjoyed your poem.

[Tina Kline]

Excellent descriptions. You describe a mowed or cut field in your own unique way.
I enjoyed reading this.

[Emily B]

more at home in the fields than on the asphalt, there is something about the smell of dirt that feels familiar to a kid who grew up making mud pies while her family worked in the tobacco fields