a humming

wrestling bundles of
stripped and cut sorghum cane
from the patches of dried foxtail
they rest in

cherie’s deep/bright orange hair
against her dark purple shirt
under missouri sun
atop a tractor wagon piled
with the weight of cane

whir/gear rhythm of the winnower
as i turn the crank that generates
drafts of air
designed to lift the chaff up and out
while seeds fall down the chute

thank you with a heart
written in my cursive on a
corn husk in sharpie

the operatic sounds that escape me
after post-frisbee pond jump in response
to the cold
not sure there is a name for the edge
where warm skin and cold water collide
but there is no doubt it is magic
shocking my blood into a humming

sunset strip cynthia and tyler joke
about the gravel back road we encounter
each other on where the western horizon
reveals itself burning autumn red between
stands of trees

cynthia points out then imitates
the pre-call shriek
of the barred owl
piercing like a needle pulled
through cloudswirls of sunset sky

puck on the couch
book open
under glow of overhead lamp
calls this harvest
this return
a nostalgia


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