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Eliot sat in the space
            Of the part open barn doors
                        Where a corridor of light fell
Onto the dirt floor
            And back into the implements
                        And parts of combines that
Lay in dust and lightstarved
            Weeds. He was watching as
                        Swallows traced parallel paths
Through the width of air
            Over the gable end of the barn
                        And to the mass of the trees
Growing into the yard.
            They had a nest in the hollow
                        Of the roof and he watched
As they darted through the
            Outer air to scream into the
                        Dark above him where their
Young made noises like the
            Friction of minute axles.
                        He got up and walked in
The heavy air to the edge
            Of the trees. They were swarming
                        With particles of dust and the
Bright forms of mosquitos.
            After some minutes he went
                        Back inside the house and to
The dark of the kitchen and
            The tile was cold and cold
                        Blue light swam before his eyes.