The Desolate Field


Vast and grey, the sky
Is a simulacrum
To all but him whose days
Are vast and grey and-
In the tall, dried grasses
A goat stirs
With nozzle searching the ground.
My head is in the air
But who am I. . . ?
-and my heart stops amazed
At the thought of love
Vast and grey
Yearning silently over me.


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The Desolate Field