Keeps
relentless, the country keeps
doors and walls reverberate
all but rest in summer’s heat
I remember the dawn and dusk – the open palette, gradiented above
opposite a front
overtaking me,
on the 4030,
tilling terraces ’round the North 180
growing here is not a war with Earth,
but a chronological board game,
won by the punctual
and patient
I am neither of these,
but I am fond of a good emergency
and it all plays out for me;
the torrent released in Missouri haste
big drops turn to steam on the labored muffler
too much to do;
getting it over with,
God cries in heaves, quickly,
around here