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It's a very short poem
entitled "Abraham."

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Again, the title is being
used in a kind of parallel way

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to the poem.

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I'm thinking of Abraham,
who was called upon by God

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to sacrifice his son
and God relenting

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upon that demand
finally, and also

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of a poem in a roundabout
way that Wilfred Owen wrote,

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who was a poet who made
most of his reputation

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from poems he wrote during the
First World War, in which he

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was killed.

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Benjamin Britten used
some of his poems

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in the War Requiem, a poem
which is also about Abraham,

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but in which Abraham
representing, I guess,

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humanity in general.

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After God relents
upon his demand

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to have Abraham kill a son,
Abraham kills him anyway.

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And this poem only
plays peripherally

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on these two circumstances.

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It's about a farmer
whose crops are diseased.

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And because the wind
will spread the disease

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to crops in
neighboring farms, he's

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directed to burn his own
crops, which are somewhat

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like his children to him.

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I think that it's a poem
about the sense of relief

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in completely losing that
which you most care for.

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Westward, our recluse
neighbor has fired his crops

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against disease.

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The landscape sways
a lake of flame.

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In the red summer we rise
and dress in the dark.

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We lift the latch on
brightness, walk down

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to the stricken lovers scattered
this side of the river.

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Everywhere hands
touch, wheat cracks,

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corn stalks are torches,
wildflowers rock

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in their vases of flame.

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Deep in his own thought,
the neighbor smiles.

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Now the land's not his, nor
was, nor will become anything

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more than his love burned down.

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His million suns whirl
westward, dressed

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in the curling
sacrificial gowns.

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