Planter

My brother is a lean white shadow in the early morning light,
Unspoken things
Have kept him thin, despite his wife’s attempts to fatten him
On love.

From the window I watch him walk his fields to their furthest edges,
Where the deer graze.
He has dug himself a place, refused to be the seed on stony ground

And with a farmer’s faith, he harvests himself against winter,
Each winnowing
Yielding the new history that he is planting in his children’s hearts.