The speaker addresses the flat, open land at the edge of town, where developers are already crying out about new subdivisions. Against that small human noise, the poem sets an enormous timescale: sunsets have poured “blood and fire” over this ground for thousands of years, and stars still wheel above it in gold, blue, and gray processions. There is awe in that vision, but also sadness. The frogs’ repeated sobbing gives the April night a mournful, almost human grief. The painted sign—“Lots for Sale—Easy Terms”—feels flimsy and temporary next to the marching stars, yet it signals change. The repetition of “this April night” makes the present feel fragile, as if an ancient rhythm is colliding with the newest sales pitch. The mood is spacious and lonely: a quiet lament for land that is ancient and alive, just as it is about to be carved up and sold.
Flat Lands — Summary
Flat lands on the end of town where real estate men are crying new subdivisions, The sunsets pour blood and fire over you hundreds and hundreds of nights, flat lands — blood and fire of sunsets thousands of years have been pouring over you.
And the stars follow the sunsets. One gold star. A shower of blue stars. Blurs of white and gray stars. Vast marching processions of stars arching over you flat lands where frogs sob this April night.
" Lots for Sale — Easy Terms " run letters painted on a board — and the stars wheel onward, the frogs sob this April night.