The Field in Texas
January 12, 1989
The field has a boundary both far and near. The western edge is lined
with trees. The northern line is edged with palms and streetlights on poles
to shine
at night. The southern limit hosts a mesquite tree for boat-tailed grackles
to make
a landing. On this eastern border I reside like a potentate counting golden petals
on a field
of ragwort. But over all the field, there beyond all horizons, is the Sky ... unbounded.