45

Smoke comes like snakes
Off the field
And the corn crackles as
It cooks and
Theres no fire nowhere
But up smoke
Comes thick black as mud
And the corn
Is gold and breeds seems
Fire outta it
And the earth cradles up
The black sky
Seems in green and gold
Blue and brown
And white arms as smoke
Scarfs right up
And grazes heaven arcing
And goin up
All of the yellow corn is.

And a tractor
Comes trundling charred out
Of the furnace
Under all of its own power.