fresh tilled soil revealed phalanges of innocents
disarranged,
chewed like chicken bones pointing or reaching
mixed with loose tree leaves that steel tines stirred in;
twigs snapped from limbs by some storm long forgotten,
and skeletons left behind after picking the cotton
the farmer sows afresh earth’s next crop rotation
seeds of winter wheat for bread we’ll be eating;
or grasses and sorghum for new cattle pasture
laid in shallow furrows with prayers for cover
anthem of living,
our losses forgiven in the harvest of summer
