Hot Day Poem by David Michael Jackson

These Moments
by David Michael Jackson

These moments lead to other slow,
oh so slow, moments leading to endless
If the universe exploded once,
it will explode again leaving us with
that question,
floating over the horizon like
simple dew drops,
waiting for the hot summer sun to leave them
seemingly vanished into the noontime
of a hot day with a hoe in my hand in
the field,
the hot field of a farmer’s son.