returning to earth

~ field ~

how green still clings to yellowing trees
and cattails bend over darkened waters
the blue-grey sky is violent with cloud
the slanting sun upon a knoll of beat-down hay
a few loosed leaves and branches lifted to wind

~ shed  ~

once the grey-grooved slats smelled sweet with pitch
the curled shingles smelled of tar
now the brown bent nails hold nothing--
round worn ends of bowing boards
outlast the carpenter's hands
his utilitarian plan given to the rootless moss

~ homestead ~

once there were potatoes and corn
white curtains rustling in a sunshined breeze
scent of apple pie
now the rusted rims of tractor wheels
the rotting harnesses of horseless fields
the odor of forgotten implements
clinging to the hollow of a broken barn