Harvest pt1

                              photo by nevil zaveri

a thousand harvests east of
of a farmers kitchen,
a toddler
twiddles with the fur of a crooked
shrub,the only ink left on his father's will
is what he would choose to write with it
His shoulders only a few inches wide
are already bending under his fathers head
massive with fractures
as a cloud's heavy feet
He kicks around the earth,enough
to disappear in its buoyant energy,
the latitudes mixed with longitudes
are still only as big as his stride
for the sky seems dry from his mother's
eyes to the horizon