The Ballad of the Summer Grains

by Erika Byrne-Ludwig

It is a day of swallows and grasshoppers, of white clouds and suntanned arms. In the yellow field wheat ears burn, lit by fantasies. One of wheat, one of rye. Summer love, holiday love is in the air. Under the thickness of the harvest, their roots search, call each other. But the space between them doesn't shrink. It remains still. Sometimes a breeze, frivolous and light, in love with ballads, sings and brings the two lovers together. A brief current through their stems, an exchange of ripe grains, two emboldened love oaths which the breeze carries away in its breath.