Saturday, July 20, 2019
Kernel
Tiny wrinkled thing
Size of a ladybug
Dry and dead as stone
It rested in my palm
I buried it beneath
The black leaf loam
From the grave it rose;
Green phoenix stretching
Lifting striated wings
Worshiping the sun
In months, taller than I
It rustled against the sky
Silver silk flowing
Over robust ears
Beneath rough sleeves
Cobs bulged with life
Rebirth from destruction
Born again from death
Multiplied like stars
Reformed and alive
Such is a spirit reborn
Like a kernel of corn
Friday, July 12, 2019
Waiting to Fall
Crippled and broken cornstalks;
pierce a field of waist-high grass
a weathered gray barn still stands
about a mile from the overpass
She was once the pride of the valley
where the harvest of plenty was kept
but now that there isn't any
she stands empty and windswept
She held the hope of America
so gently in her arms
and graced the land with bounty
from orchards, fields and farms
Farmers, crippled and broken
Watch their children leave the land
But whether epitaph or token,
The weathered gray barn still stands
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