Closed

There was a long
Dark highway
Stretching between
You and me
Lined with telephone poles
Blackened with creosote
And leaning with the shove
Of storms.

Between you and me
Were endless flocks
Of barn swallows
Teetering on high lines
Draping those poles
That border the long highway.

Between you and me
Were millions
Of acres of corn
That feed the swallows
That perch on the lines
That flank the lonely highway.

Scores of weary farmers
Steer slow tractors
Raising dust
Into chambray skies
Tilling the soil
That will hold the seed
Coaxing corn to life
All along the highway once
Between you and me.

Tired laborers
Limp into
White frame houses
With leaky roofs
And tilting chimneys
Looking for simple suppers
Of Navy Beans
And corn bread
Across the prairies
Between you and me.

Lover, do you see
There is more between us
Than what we suppose?

More than miles of poles
Barn swallows
Fields of grain
Farmers, tractors
And plates of simple meals.

That which lies between us
Is more distant than horizons
Deeper than fields
Higher than wings may fly
And more simple than
Bread and beans.

There’s no longer a connection
Between us, lover.
That highway is
Closed.