The earth breathes gently
tired like hands knotting
a straw hat laces,
sunset light gathers on the ground,
hot vapors raise from the grass.
The old worker is resting,
cart’s axle has deep wrinkles.
Looking straight into the sun,
a barefoot child runs on a narrow path,
staircase to the world’s attic.
People descend slowly towards home.
Life is a loaded wagon
settled in heavy haystacks
still green inside.