Tipsy with prosperity, sprawled
And snoring on the threshing floor,
Boaz was so exhausted he dreamed
The day's labor was over, ghost
Harvesting his crop, floating
In a topaz haze, groping his way
Dazed through corridors without
Answers, stalks so thickly sewn
He walked among his sins, reaping
His yield, the fields' ripe confusion,
Gathering the sheaves forever
Of his deeds, a widower winnowing
His past, the seep of pain through aging
Limbs. Suddenly there was a woman
Lying at his feet, in fact, on them.
She was more seplendent even than acres
Of glinting grain or the flesh of an ear
Of corn freshly shucked by an expert,
Deftly in a few quick strokes,
The plump kernels and the amber
Skin a vision, hair so fine is must be
Hidden and forbidden to any other
Hands except a husband's. That body was
A prophecy, a shaft of nakedness
Across his unprotected bow,
Exposed by the bold Moabitess.
Like a wide-necked, full-hipped silver
Ewer, as beautiful as it is
Servicable, waiting to be
Filled up to the brim with well-
Water, and exiled woman seems
An ideal vessel for a man,
For the gush of his hyperbole.
The truth is Ruth had pluck. Knew
Her luck. She was pragmastist
Who heard the siren swish of uncut
Promise in the near distance.
She also knew for some reason
Intimately as the contours
Of her sandal that man, the master.
Yes, she could handle him, witness
Boaz ordering his men to strew
Her path with fallen ears of corn,
Flowers in the footsteps of a queen.
Every day Ruth gleaned more and more;
But she was honest in her dealings,
Reaping only for her needs,
Hers and Naomi's. Her spine was supple
As a willow standing out
Among the multitude, men
And women bending on a swelling
Ocean, the days unbroken swaying
Motion, obeying someone else's
Will, blushing to the ticklish
Brush of rough, tufts of grain
Under her skirt, feeling the firmnes
Of a corn baton, shaped, it seemed
To fit a woman's palm: curve
For curve her touch was sure. She walked
Away from the labor flushed and spent,
A nation in her apron and six
Measures of barley for Naomi.
(c)1999 by Southern Methodist University
All Rights Reserved
