Summer on 20 acres.

Hooks and hay
Legs, arms, hair, feet
Pulleys and rope
Dangle like hope
From these loft floor cracks and old barn rafters
High on sunshine, shade and sugar
Wading through
Summertime sweetness
Ripples
Sparkles
Soft difference between water and air
Swaying, yellow grass grazing the crisscrosses on my overalled back
I won’t touch this ground again with my pink toes
Only with my mind

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Take Me Home

I swing my legs from the swaying dock
Forgotten every one of my dwindling flock

I lay in fields of golden, wet, honey wheat
Drink down dew from low, golden clouds I meet

I run in those hidden dark, green trees
Places I learned to be what I please

Ravines littered with softly-fallen sins
Redeemed by desire, baptized by might-have-beens

Hay dangles through cracks and creaky joists
I break pains and panes with the ghosts of your voice

Pains of the past
Panes of glass

I fly kites with the ribs of those rotting, white windows
Catch hope with faith and sinewy minnows

Display truth and let it cool on open-sashed sills
Smoke the winnows and billows of dogged wills

Clear to the rafters of this old barn
And to the ragged fence posts on Used-to-be Farm
I love you.