Soybean rows paved the fields in tan shades
heralding by their dryness a nearing harvest;
a crop, a cycle, a promise of a fulfillment.
Lean, overalled, old man paces his fields;
squatting, testing multiple plants’ readiness.
A taciturn self can’t hide the bliss of Harvest.

 A seventeen-year-old boy has harvested,
with, according to companions, “extreme 
happiness,” a young, rare albino antelope.
Ask about the hunt, the harvester said,
“I‘m was so happy! I  couldn’t git a breath!”
Culls blood runs thick-red over white hair.
 
“News! Breaking news! News just for you!
An illicit harvesting may have just occurred!
Apparently, the Harvester did not issue
any notifications prior to this culling and 
states his intent was ‘totally eradicate, not
mere persecution, of those sordid, ethic beast!’”.