Tuesday, June 25th
The boys will run naked
when they get here
like Lord of the Flies.
Concrete streets are all they know.
Clean air will flow up their noses here.
Wildflowers & roses are growing in the garden.
With their little city hands,
they can till my Earth,
and plant more.
We can dig a hole,
mix in a cup of bone meal
and give the roots cool water
& then we’ll run to the cornfield.
The corn has grown so high,
you should see it.
I don’t think you’ve ever seen it
& if it’s a windy day, we will stop
and watch the stalks and tassels
dance in circles
like the Cherokee
and Lakota.
Wednesday, November 20
Shriveled and dried,
the corn has died.
the leaves have fallen.
The wind has chased
them into the strawberry patch
where Jemima Puddle-Duck,
our ceramic scarecrow,
guards the dormant berries
from desperate critters.
We wait now for when
life awakens
& the light strengthens.
Will you visit me then, Brother,
when the days are longer
and you are warmer?