Wheat Fields

Wind-shield wipers
going back and forth
parting water
that falls in intervals of seconds.

onto cars driving past drowning
fields of wheat.

On the surface, all is well.

Peace
like silent lightning
touching down
a deserted field;

Quietness inside the cars;

A darkness along the road
as dark as the bottom of a stone well;

An innocence proven;

Slowly, water reaches
throats of the wheat.