189-After-The-Storm

Leaves drifting down, early morning,
as I pop out the door to snag the paper
the air engulfs me like a big wet kiss!
a wet air morning for certain.
 
Soaking my world
the fields and grass are laden
humidity must be a hundred
A pin drop would make it rain!
 
Far to the south
the Gulf offers up its moisture
and winds duly christened travel
a giant swirl brings them here
to bathe the plains with life giving water
naturally
sufficient
to make this a garden
 
Lush, comes to mind,
in seasons warm
lovely, when cold
slides down in winter
Harvest will wait all morning
as the sun bakes the plants for plucking
Shed doors fly open, late morning
machines growl out
crawling like giant caterpillars
in the fields
Devouring,
spewing
sifting, sorting
pouring out the fruits of summer
 
Into the darkness the machines roar on
pushing against the night
then, moisture again, settles in
smothering plants and machines to silence
 
Another day of harvest
 
Selah,
Lin
Harvesting soybeans, 10/2012 
189