The Sowing
A penumbra of lightning
grays your belly,
a huge melon
framed in leaded glass windows.
It grows
as we move in night's soft storm,
air piquant with rain, legs
petrified tree roots
in this patch of bed,
farmers in the night
coming back to the land.
Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2005
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment