After Words
On the eastern prairie hills
After the grasses turn yellow
After the hay is cut in contoured rows
And the brown earth stands
In round patches
After the church is closed for the week
And its white walls bake in the sun
After the weighted heads of grain
Are stored in the tall steel silos to dry
Under the snow
After the dogs are fed and the horses
Closed in
After the stiff sheets are folded
After the juncos have finished in the bushes
After the flies stop
After the forest goes gray
After talk ends
And Venus appears
There is only silence on the fields
And the tricks of night air, tiny movements
Shadows of fences
Then I think of you.