The difference told from tares is that the wheat
wears clustered peaks of grain, apart from looks,
grow not to themselves, as those that crook
appearances - since cunning wolves can bleat -
from those they would deceive with mirror look.
Ready rather to have chaff shaken, wheat brooks
the one eternal word through summer heat
until the up-filled harvest's kingdom come.
Distinguishing is made by those who wait.
For traits that hook the eye attempt a sum
of heaven cinched, attained, to satiate.
The difference lies in what is borne and thrummed
from stalk: a falling groundward, gravid weight.