SOWING SEED IN MAY
by Ann Howells
Here where time-worn Arbuckles—
three hundred million years old,
angles softened, weathered,
like loose-skinned old women—
remain implacable as granite,
we adhere to three sisters planting.
Squash retain moisture around corn
which, in turn, supports beans;
each supplies nutrients for others.
Blood sings in my ears as
heart and body work in unison.
But, May can be a seething bitch—
brutal month in a brutal season.
Rain-wrapped tornadoes build
between prairie and stars;
ghost-like they sweep the plains,
suck our lives into the cloud
with smug omnipotence.
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