Pungent Nights

Wildflowers cascade down Horse-Heaven Hill
like a showy mudslide, they pile up at the bottom,
become the same color, fragrances merge
to the pungency of ensilage, the tang of beer.

A gaggle of children run and tumble
down, pile up at the bottom,
in time they become the same color,
fragrances merge in the tang of beer.

The sun sets and the 'River of Stars' tumbles
across the sky like a galaxy of naïve
rushing to the end of innocence,
and the night has a pungent aroma.