Ineffable

This is where they hung the sky when I was young;
on a hook, draped loose over the yawning void
above Midwestern highways
            cutting through heartland fields
            where farmers till the soil
            and sun-bleached barns
            cave in upon themselves
                        imperceptibly.
And I would stare into that sky
with ineffable longing.

I wrote this a few years ago.  The first couple of lines came into my head as I was driving from Ohio to Minnesota.  I had to pull over to the side of the highway so I could write them down before I forgot them.