I have ploughed one field

And seen the soil turn

To lie against its fellow

Under the greedy gull shout

Behind my blade.

Worm gorged, at dusk

They seek a distant tide line

And the furrowed field clamour

Slips silently into the night

 

I have broken the plough lines

Left to crumble in the sun

Where worms once toiled

My disk and dragging chain

Harrowed the land.

Tilth readied, at dusk

The stubborn clods are gone

And the hanging dust cloud haze

Settles quietly till sowing day