There

An abrupt abutment

of wide earth and broad air

is a line that draws him

without end to the boundary

–

of wide earth and broad air.

He plows a square on the plain

without end to the boundary:

the bent hedgepost by the sun.

–

He plows a square on the plain

he inherits and stares past

the bent hedgepost by the sun,

beyond the town, across the land.

–

He inherits and stares, past

an isolate tree and an elevator

beyond a town, across the land.

And on and along the horizon:

–

an isolate tree and an elevator

nothing save grain goes up.

And on and along the horizon,

the high hum from tall poles.

–

Nothing save grain goes up

from flat here. There is ever

the high hum from tall poles

from the coal mine to Chicago.

–

From flat here, there is ever

an abrupt abutment.

From the coal mine to Chicago

is a line that draws him.

–

This poem, from about 20 years ago, is a pantoum, a very difficult, repetitive & cyclical form of Malaysian origin. It’s an attempt to capture my youth chisel-plowing the flat, fecund fields of south central Illinois after harvest. On a clear day, I could see 7 grain elevators from my house and spent many hours in the tractor, turning up the dirt after harvest. It was my favorite job.