and how innocent they are!

     they are of the earth as weeds and sagebrush and
     their crops are of it
        (walking their dirt paths,
        sifting through it
        turning it up
 expecting so much from the earth!)

and they are afraid --
of a world that moves toward them and can't
be pushed back
     of the machines that want their fields
     and the kids who've fled them.
        of you,  who have made glossy cities
     to menace their unpainted barns

          and they are confused     by children sent off to college
                 who don't come back, and
                 by the children who come back changed.