The days would be as persistent slow as the fields
stretched sonorous
sky to sky
grass and grain
gold and green
dawn to dusk
work to rest
work again

The years would be as steady slow as the growing
plant to seed
tend the growth
sprout to stalk
pray for rain
ripen to harvest
smell the sun
tractor, thresher
reaper, combine
silo, grainery
fallow fields
winter rest
begin again

The life would be as straight slow as the train tracks
made for long loads, steady pulls
rulers laid between field and road
measured progress
from terminal to terminal
division lines across prairies

We are will-o’-wisp
gadflies
picture takers
memory makers
strangers in this long strong land.