Sunday, October 4, 2009

I Heard the Corn Talking

My morning walk to school - so dark -
no moon to cast shadows in the dim predawn.
Only stars lit my path - so dark - little could be seen,
so quiet, no bird song, no hum of insect, no breeze felt on my bare hands, only the crunch of my feet on the dirt road gave life to the eerie expanse.

I rounded the corner-
I heard something unusual-
the corn field talking-
no I swear I heard them rattling on.

As I looked I saw only row upon row of khaki jackets and outstretched sleeves on tall slender frames. I turned away the sound intensified - did I catch motion out of the corner of my eye? I looked away, there. I looked back, it felt like a game of “Red Light, Green Light” with stalks of corn. I didn’t seem to be winning.

I heard dry parched throats hoarse, that crackled, and scratched faint soothing sounds. Calm voices whispered from row to row. They begged me to listen - to join them. The chorus continued as I paused now and then - until at last the sun made its grand appearance.

Then all fell silent - only a brown corn field remained, no games, no songs, and no whispers, only warm light bathed the tawny field and complemented the glowing red dawn spread as a blanket over them.

Every day I hope to catch the corn talking, bright stars shine above. My feet crunch a quiet warning. The corn, in hushed voices, tries to pretend they can fool me. Is it the song of the breeze on leaves or timid voices heard by sensitive ears? Come and listen.

Plover Lover
October 1, 2009

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