Metal elephants
chewing across fields of dry gold
rousing specters from the earth
swirling cloud of tanned dust
billowing out, gentle drift
like some cloak caught in an autumn breeze
silk scarf of a summer dancer
but the air is still
the ghost rides its own current
following an echo of a song
towards the mountains
chaff of wheat rises
filling the eyes
cresting globe of barely kernels
drifting towards the sun
and settling
baked
to the ground
we are fed from the lowest places
and hike to the peaks
only to look down in wonder
