Today's poem is by Carol Ann Davis
Corn Maze Afternoon
There where the blooms of burnt trees are promised. There
where the wet fall begins to yellow, the briskness of the afternoon
leading everyone past the old bobcat
to where the gray wolves circle above a highway.
There where goats nap.
So much to see, and the petting, nearly endless petting,
and so the bettering of habitat. Where the burnt trees gather
beneath orchard signs"Just Us Orchards"; "Fruitlands"
a white-eyed dog follows alongside the careless sweep
of your hand. Like skipping a stone. Nothing but grass and the three of us
adrift in the orchard. Much as we will be
long after the defunct mariachi band. Much as we will remain
after heroin park and the noodle house,
our voices echoing in a pool of floating ghosts, of chlorine
all of it there, waiting for us, our future tied with a knot.
What are the other virtues, the ones after forgetfulness
and praise? And what follows
to resurrect these strewn, strawmade goods?
The last Early Girl glistening on the vine, the ridgeline
awash in light. Here where we climb,
follow signs and answer questions: if Jonah was swallowed
by a whale, turn right, turn right into the corn's
open heart, its many hands.
Copyright © 2007 Carol Ann Davis All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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