In a Darkened Countryside

Stars waken slowly as day dies

again their distant lights arrive

to the mind as thoughts dawning

too faint to see past the day

with all its intersections traffic lights

its browbeating glare passing over

its obsession with work half-undone

its judgments to be gotten past

while there was light left to see

whether we did well or poorly

till with dark at last we rest our eyes

on sights beyond reach or reproach

in motion far out on the edges

pinpoints adrift mere smatterings

rumored neighbors all but overlooked

who still need to farm something like us

Paul Hunter

Paul Hunter’s most recent farming book is Stubble Field, from Silverfish Review Press. He is just finishing an autobiographical book of prose poems, called Clownery.