8/28

For too long, corn stands rose too tall, 
too enclosing, smalling my surroundings 
into soft fears.

Only, now the embrace of their tall shadows 
give a calm comfort as might the arms of 
a new lover.

So, standing under deepening aqua skies, 
by the quiet rustle of this phalanx of 
green limbed sentinels,

I accept the affection I am given, friends, 
others, hold it close as a gift and 
bid it welcome.

8/21

It's four in the morning, 
the moon is long gone.
Wrapped in an old robe,
I’m waiting for meteors.
They streak over in pauses, 
like slow uneven breathing.   

A few lone lights steady along.
Who flies at this hour?

A good breeze rustles 
high in corn stalks,
much taller than you.
Was a time I believed only 
such a strong wind could breath 
air back into my lungs, as if

I'd forgotten how.
That’s not really true.

The milky way shimmers, 
As a cat nudges my ankles, 
A soft ghostly touch, 
I do not assume it is so.
And anticipating these showers, 
That’s not really what woke me