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Poem

dirt twirls and dances between the rows 
in slow curly q archs 
with the same meandering intensity of a lazy summer afternoon as the sun beats down leaving 
shimmering specks like a great photo voltaic pond 
slightly bending visual acuity in the process 
leaving behind a kind of dreamlike haze
just as easily forgotten as remembered 
all this is the backdrop to the steady hum of the John Deer
moving earth with an unhurried confidence 
one chunked plot of land at a time
no more no less 
all the while the lone hawk looks on from its power line throne 
on the corner crisp apples  are sold
dipped in caramel and sold on  a stick 
to the bouncing children energetic from the long car ride 
all is well in the central valley

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