If you sprint fast enough,
the corn runs with you,
whole rows quick on their roots.
Slow down and they jog
calm and breathless.
Stop and they turn
into walls. Hands on knees,
you pant, and all the leaves,
like wings, beat wildly.
-Michael Walsh, from "The Dirt Riddles"
Oooh, lovely. Reminds me of one time , long ago...a hot summer night, driving home from Madison, late, in the dark. We pulled over and shut off the engine to watch the fireflies in the corn fields and listen to the corn singing in the breeze...
ReplyDelete