Something So Beautiful It Hurts
Have you seen this thing so beautiful it hurts?
A white gravel road calls out ahead, threading up
and down the lazy hills.
Shaggy ponies graze, seem to swim,
spotted sable and cream, in the golden green
Mid July, corn of dark green waves
in the breeze, a confusion of edges and leaves
and rows and rows.
Sunshine breaks open my heart with longing.
The plural exhalations of corn fill the air,
humid and heavy, breathy reminders
of my own. Have you reckoned
your breath with that of the living corn,
the living earth, the hot breeze?
I inhale, I exhale. I compound
the humidity and scent
and taste of the hazy July sky.
Crossroads call now, a white plus sign
upon the countryside. Give over
to the ache and stop, just stop, here.