In Fields Naked
In fields naked lay she down
beside herself with grief for love
inside herself with dewdrop fingers,
stoking fire between her lips.
In fields naked sat she there,
face in hands with tears falling,
hitching shoulders pale with shock,
barley soft against her flesh.
In fields naked woke at dawn,
pools of moisture on her belly,
golden grass in crevices teased,
light from every cranny spilled.
In fields naked walked she proud,
erect before the rising sun,
the ravens tugging at her hair,
smile raised up to the sky.
In fields naked faced the day,
the seep of blood between her legs,
a memory of the virgin death,
a woman for all seasons born.
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