Feedback by Ben Rasnic

Feedback

This thing remembered—

tendrilled wisps of amber
groomed from sweaty plough blades
of Nebraska soil, waves breaking
the black earth into gold flames
ripening in air, rich with mirrors.

“It’s only wheat”,
she said,
“Just big dumb fields
of nothing but wheat”,
said

this harvest from my
loins, tawny fingers weaving
strands of sun-bleached
tasseled hair, face
flecked with straw
glistening

her bright smile,
her star rising.

by Ben Rasnic

Editor’s Note: Children say the damndest things. Perspective often requires several decades of harvest.