I hoped for wheat and they planted corn.
Still, rabbits play freeze tag under the trees,
young deer stare from across the road,
turkeys meander through the yard
and foxes yawn on the concrete slab
next to piles of waiting lumber.
I ignore the fig tree bursting with fruit
and monitor the puny pomegranates
destined for a short, unhappy life.
I glare at the ranks of corn
slouching like underage recruits,
and wish instead for golden grain.
Nothing is the way I expected.
I hadn’t accounted for harvests, seasons,
plagues and unpredictable storms.
Inspired by dVerse.
Our daughter Delia danced in the corn in June.
I grew up in the fertile corn belt of Illinois, so this poem was a song to me. Beautiful
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All the other critters, flora and fauna, roll with it. Give nature thanks and a chance and all will be well.
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I know my dissatisfaction comes from false expectations. The corn can’t help that it’s not wheat!
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🙂
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This is a wonderful tribute to growth… love it (even if it sounds like you prefer wheat)
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Thank you!
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Hopefully your expectations will be met soon! This is a beautifully poignant write 🙂
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thank you!
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love the images of nature’s flora and fauna in your poem, especially the fox lying down. perhaps we have more satisfaction when we do not expect a lot? 🙂
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