At summer’s ending,

ever northward

the harvesting contractors

swarm.

Mechanical locusts,

the combines come

in conga lines reaping

the fields’ golden harvest,

prairie winds unceasing

carry the chaff away.

Convoys

in perpetual motion

hauling grain,

filling silos by

railway sidings.

Dusty autumn,

soils drying,

stubble rotting,

broad acreage awaits

its arctic mantle.

.