Six Foot Night in Late August
There is a seven-thirty sky in late August
where night Is too close
the moon too early
The Iowa cornfields
blow up to the shoreline
of the road like high
tides of an unharvested sea
The high roads of the high plains
have run down into flatter fields
and bottomed out black
Iowa’s high topped cornfields
are high walls of darkness
Their tassels and stalk-tops
are graveside flowers above
six foot night in late August
Steve Heins