While the Wheat Sweeps

Lazy in its manner

The stalk sways 

Intent on direction

An external force bends

Brushing the hair of this world

Into the groomed grains of time

Gold and tan they mingle

A beautiful mane

Dressing the common observer

Watching the vehicles sputtering

In a hurry to forget

The subtleties of expanse

Disconnected by proximity

Yet the grace it bestows

Blends the simplicity

Of driving the world

While the wheat sweeps.


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