Morning's devotion

an old soldier with a long scar bisecting his palm
walked through these fields, observed in silence
by the dried ears of corn, these golden brown husks
swaying in the bitter wind, bowed as in prayer,
and as he walked left right and then left,
blood pulsed across his brain and thundered
through his legs, and as he breathed in steadily,
a thousand larvae lay waiting beneath his heavy boot.