Reflection On Jackson Pollock’s Summertime 9a Poem by C Richard Miles

Rhythms of yellow cornfield
Dance on a heat-hazed canvas
Of languor and industry
Coexisting in harmony.

Harvest-heavy skies hang
To clear the obfuscating blur
Of leisure and labour
In expectancy of soft rain.

Assiduous bees still flit
From bloom to bloom
Of blood-red poppy
Interspersed with weary wheat.

Ripe grain sighs softly:
Sun-bleached seedheads
Aching in anticipation
Of imminent garnering.

City-grey polluted miasma
Dares to interrupt
The sun-scorched silence
Of suffocating afternoon.

First stray suggestions
Of refreshing showers
Limit excess lethargy
Hinting shades of green.

And with the gold of sunset
Whispered from crucified sky,
Summertime sleeps,
Keeping treasure to itself.