I want you to come in
& then to explain it all
& then to speak truths
to those who’ve heard
your initial false words

Revisit friends – minds
you’ve inflamed by lies
[& those younger ones
who heard sour words]
Set straight our furrow

before your seeds take
hold & their wiry roots
cannot be re-wired/ To
all those thrown grains
return & pull into line/

Until then each ridge of
turned soil will become
odd distortions as crops
rise [no equal tramlines
once misaligned seeds

are amplified as blown
heads across your field
of low yields] They may
mow your thrawn crop/
It will be a poor harvest