- The Wet of Seed -
All that shimerin’ linen with its piercing
White
Cut through the green
O’ field and water.
-
Swaying down 'cross godless land
With that little red urn.
Soaks up the sun and hot in breast.
-
Once a good man toiled, much similar hands
Through this bloody red dirt.
Now they, skinny in his image
in the river he bathe.
-
The soot of man all wet now.
Rinsed through the algae bloom.
Cross the foot of spilt seed.
Home and back away again.