Field (Erin Belieu)

Personally, I don't know how to write a poem that isn't in standard stanzas and poetic lines. Usually, I find other versions to just be affected. I like that in today's poem by Erin Belieu the lines remind me of crops in the field she is describing. Could you harvest these words?

I like that you get the sense of crops and the Southern Delta from this poem. Those few lines in italics make me think of a blues song. I like the poem's sense of waiting in a field and finding in the field - a place where nature and man's handiwork are combined. Perhaps, like a poem - both organic-feeling and yet totally controlled/manufactured. 

Favorite line: "you are sounding. Go home."