and there is also a rainbow

There are twenty-four in a day, still twelve in a dozen
a constitution, the rule of law
and her simple, happy henchmen
above all is the implacable journey of everyday
humming like a brand new john deere on
an indirect trip to dust,
sunlight falls, temperatures rise,
time slips, sorrow underlies

In the street, from curtained faces, bright eyes turn away
declining painted passageways to foreign lands
at school,in the a&p, hope is an amiable tag liberally tinkled
the Future is calculated and plotted on wall-size maps
the sun rises over still, frigid fields, sleeping, disquieted hearts
beyond the yellow frame of the farmhouse kitchen window
tin metal daisies clang and sigh with the breeze
sprinkle some cinnamon sugar on oatmeal, sorrow
underlies still

The mid-day sun steals green from the crop leaves
peeling red from old barn doors,
in the field, rubies and rusted bolts sleep deep down in the dust
the old tractor needs a fresh bath of unvarnished malevolence
threats veiled and unveiled bring transparent animation
the philco's tubes burn orange-red with caged fire
and a shaky voice sings about untested angel-wings,
steely knives are poised to pierce the veil of granny's apple pie

Over the beanfield, after the tornado
young eyes rescue a waterlogged rainbow struggling to breathe
but find only beer cans and weeds at the uncut tip
evening comes on fast, begs the end of the color spectrum
finishing off a penciled checklist,
the farmer plows his last field for the night
we fade by degrees back to black