An intriguing poem by Wallace Stevens. Actually, I'm not sure what to make of it.
The Silver Plough-Boy
A black figure dances in a black field.
It seizes a sheet, from the ground, from a bush, as if spread there
by some wash-woman for the night.
It wraps the sheet around its body, until the black figure is silver.
It dances down a furrow, in the early light, back of a crazy plough,
the green blades following.
How soon the silver fades in the dust! How soon the black figure
slips from the wrinkled sheet! How softly the sheet falls
to the ground!
The silver sheet--moonlight?
the black figure/green blades following: a god/deity responsible for fostering the growth of crops?
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