background image
of water, a coppery fl are, in Latham Lake
over in Beebe draw, a full ten miles away.
12:00 midnight
(There is nothing here, says the midnight,
but the lineaments of the real, resort
and support of every implication.)
9:00 a.m.
The brown water fl ows along soberly
in the main ditch; out in the beet fi eld
water from this ditch appears as silver inlays
between the dark green rows.
11:00 a.m.
Late morning and the children have been playing
in swimming trunks on the lawn for an hour or so,
resorting from time to time to a sprinkler
that has been turning out in front long enough
to have made a big disc of darker green, mottled
and glittering -- countermeasures successfully taken
against the rapid approach of high noon -- and
the sparrows have not once stopped chirping
in the trees in the yard -- big trees dark with summer.
2:00 p.m.
Surrounded by the hot fi elds the Russian Olives
make a brightness, growing along the draw --
the gray-green boughs are as clumps of frost
to the heart's desire that sees itself entering
that foliage from the heat and the light
as deer step into a grove and break up in shadows.