harvest

summer sun
hot, hot
golden glow
singing songs
of ripening

in a farmer’s field
a day’s work
transforms gold
into stubble

earth’s cycle
laid bare
in the light
of labor’s
morning

::

::

Today I am also over at Vision & Verb
with more thoughts on this field of wheat.

Come, join us!

::

this post is part of one shot poetry wednesday


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