Friday, October 17, 2008

Twilight in the Corn Field

It is twilight, but darkening

And what I think I see

May be something else

Or nothing at all.

Sage sniffs the air and looks

Out across this recently

Shorn field. I can see

The farmer’s lights now

That the corn is down,

And Sage smells rabbits

And field mice and hears

Their scurrying – wanting

To give chase as I did when

The corn was high and concealing.

It kept the heat upon our path

Then when we were here last.

We walked in its shadow,

In its dark influence, making

What we could of being there

As we and time plodded on

Before the corn was gone.

Lawrence Helm

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