At The Western Heaven

What went before
could not imagine
Sunflowers shining in Nebraska
light and more light
and yellow, so yellow
to spread spray of color
beyond distances
and filled with seeds
the seeds.

by Charles Chaim Wax

Comments (4)

just got another thought about this; intriguing how you normally write in long sprawling spacial poems about claustrophobic environments in the backstreets of new york, and yet here you are in this wide open setting of nebraska and you describe it in a tight and narrow poem.
this sounded a bit different to your usual work, your wording a bit different working within a more confined space. a beautiful result.
Your poem fills me with warmth, Charles. Susie.
Revisiting England a few years ago I was stunned by the acres of rapeseed (unfortunate name) blanketing the Cambridgeshire countryside. A new England to get used to, yellow. Sunflowers in Nebraska aren't alien! love L