When the stalk is cut the head falls

seed spills sun bakes

no rain falls—the sky


the sky throbs brazen bare

bird-hush settles

on the mown scars


and yet and yet


it creeps back life

in green and yellow pink and blue

and white


white sea froth

butterfly-dancing beneath

the throbbing brazen sky


and we do creep back

rise up with heads thrown back

make another fine show


beneath the indifferent sky

bobbing on the great dry

white-frothed sea.

meadow froth