An abrupt abutment
of broad earth and wide air
is a line that draws him
without end to the boundary
of wide earth and broad air.
He plows a square on the plain
without end to the boundary,
the bent hedgepost by the sun.
He plows a square on the plain
he inherits and stares past
the bent hedgepost by the sun,
beyond a town, across the land.
He inherits and stares, past
an isolate tree and an elevator
beyond a town, across the land.
And on and along the horizon:
an isolate tree and an elevator
nothing save grain goes up.
And on and along the horizon,
the high hum from tall poles.
Nothing save grain goes up
from flat here. There is ever
the high hum from tall poles
from the coal mine to Chicago.
From flat here, there is ever
an abrupt abutment.
From the coal mine to Chicago
is a line that draws him.
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