What drove you to the corn field
To huddle yourself in a womb of carbon monoxide, forsaking oxygen's teat?
How stealthy was the Grim Reaper
As his scythe leveled shriveled ears of corn on a vacant new moon's night?
Did you see your children in the fog
While Nausea and Hallucination bashed their phalanges on your windshield?
Around the summer-warmth of your heart as if
Your shining strength would never set before nine
As if their tears were as morning dew on your green arms
As if their laughter would echo along your loving hills forever
May it be,
