SUMMER – September 2020

A Poem by William Duke


Dead deer

lies in culvert.

Turkey vultures alight

feeding on decaying carcass.

Sun shines,


grass grows

high on hay field.

Soon the tractor will come,

cutting and baling the harvest.

Once more


rain falls

pouring down hard,

running in rivulets,

creating ruts on road surface.

There are



channels moving

in great swirling circles

washing away understanding.



the heat

takes us away

beyond our language,

leaves us mercifully alone

for now.