Rivers of Fire
rivers of fire,
underground waterfalls,
shift the dirt
and move the soil
that cradle a golden field
of winter rye.
one high-set break,
in the middle of the field,
provides the tryst'n place.
catalpa, locust, sumac,
grow stunted, from a
lazy diet of shallow loam.
the ragged remainder of
virtue, that deep shade attracts,
finds hushed and hasty
solace twixt cool rock
and warm, fragrant clay.
eight tender
steps to
the edge
of sun.
eyes squint against the glare.
all the universes light the way
as new life takes its first walk
in the tall grain.
©Naomi Marshall 2017
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