Claude Monet, Grainstacks in Bright Sunlight, 1890
Repository. The glow an obeisance,
how straw and its seeds – in gratitude? –
absorb and give light back to itself.
“We have caught the sun,” they exult,
“we’re doing our job, we’re a great
success.” And the haymakers think
they hear a singing but then
tell themselves it’s just the heat,
summer is like that, a noontime buzzing
in the air. They’ve packed the hay well,
stored its goodness for the cows,
winter necessity. Now they flop down
in the near-blue shade, pull out
canteens, gulp the warm water.
Hay at their backs stretches and cracks.
Grace Marie Grafton
This poem was first published in Theodate.
Grace Marie Grafton’s most recent book, Jester, was published by Hip Pocket Press. She is the author of six collections of poetry. Her poems won first prize in the Soul Making contest (PEN women, San Francisco), in the annual Bellingham Review contest, Honorable Mention from Anderbo and Sycamore Review, and have twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Poems recently appear in Basalt, Sin Fronteras, The Cortland Review, Canary, CA Quarterly, Askew, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Ambush Review.
The Ekphrastic Review
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