A bird caught in a current
is suspended between earth and sky
the barn’s tin roof tile, half removed, bangs against the beams
I stand facing the cool wind
as it brings dark clouds over the horizon

A thunder clap in the distance mocks our silence
the field is still being cut
I’m bemused as to why the farmhand
is still driving the tractor in circles

A droplet of rain flicks me on the cheek
the farmhand rushes to tow
a payload of grass below the barn
I stood outside the shelter of the barn
arms crossed like a patient lover
waiting out the storm