Hare

Flat down under the winds vibrations fear  
the combine harvester rattles and throbs.
Empty of running wild, in wrong stillness,  
senseless young innocent, she lost her ear tips.
 
Out in this silent black song's hard chorus  
ancient smoke, silver sheathed against autumn  
gold, gathering season she hare lays faint to
the ground, voices shuffling far away time  
 
slowed down now into earths warm ochre  
eternity stopping before an eye  
rises sunset worn but breathing. Divine  
fire and legs found to move heart beneath blood,  
 
blessing wheat for bread home bounding, bound like  
metal and fire giving her soul to us who would eat.