Supermarket in Autumn

Rains enter the supermarket,

the relief of rain washing

              the epidermal layer

of insects off foods, off

rows of cans, pink

and green in their skins.

Muted monologues,

supermarket checkers, heads

bowed over scanners, they grab

              the frozen meat,

its resin-baked bones.

Nodding, blowing, rows and rows

of ripening corn reach out.

The stands of corn silk wave,

             wave in the cornstalk wind.

Rise and fall of land, etched,

crisscrossed with crops,

soaked with rain, dried, soaked again.

The women are weeders, gatherers,

their hands bend and pull.

           Children, asleep in carts,

mouth words to break the dark.

So much is seasonal, so much

            drift; fish float belly up.

Loons hoot over the lake, rocks

split the sound.