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by Morgan Bazilian

Not another poem
About the sunrise
The car seems to bend
Towards the colours

The people used to it
Have been awake for hours
Irrigating fields
With metal monsters

The fields not touched
Are already brown
Or fallow

Grain silos without
Shadows are the darkest
And coolest objects on the plains

The large pick-up trucks
Are dominating the roads
They appear proud
In the dark light

It cannot be ignored
The clouds are no longer hesitant
But in rapture
And the shades of orange and yellow
Swirling headstrong among the blue

Morgan Bazilian is a writer living in the USA and Ireland. His short fiction and poetry have appeared in numerous literary journals. He is often on a plane.