A Hampshire Field at Sunset

Wheels of hay – sun-fired,
each a sealed universe,
replete, imperturbable.
Shadows are sarsens here –
autumn spilled on the ground,
winter gathering in the sky.
Come to bed tonight,
curl your body into mine.
From next year’s furrows
the braided gold will rise.
Time enough, my love
to exhale the breath
we did not know we were
holding for this world.

Ilyse Kusnetz
“A Hampshire Field at Sunset” first appeared in Atlanta Review, Volume XVII: No. 1, 2010.