Corn Hut Talk

After our lovely party last night, we slept like little acorns under the leaves.. This morning Mom decided to try the steps (she's been housebound a couple of weeks due to a "bad leg"....) Success! So we were off on a journey. Had breakfast at the lake with a Dartha sound asleep, beak under her wing.. (I didn't take a picture because truly she looked dead!!!) Dartha finally shook herself awake just as we were leaving... What a bird! After a long drive and a late lunch at Crossroads, we wandered home in this unbelievable post-Thanksgiving summershine... 60 degrees and total sunshine!

We drove home through Amish country... These proud shocks of corn prompted me to look up another line of poetry I recalled from dear old Carl Sandburg... and that journey prompted me to copy/paste the whole of Corn Hut Talk... Dear Mr. Carl. ====================
Corn Hut Talk

Write your wishes
on the door
and come in.
Stand outside
in the pools of the harvest moon.
Bring in the handshake of the pumpkins.
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There’s a wish for every hazel nut?
There’s a hope for every corn shock?
There’s a kiss for every clumsy climbing shadow?
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Clover and the bumblebees once,
high winds and November rain now.
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Buy shoes for rough weather in November.
Buy shirts to sleep outdoors when May comes.
Buy me
something useless to remember you by.
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Send me a sumac leaf from an Illinois hill.
In the faces marching in the firelog flickers,
In the fire music of wood singing to winter,
Make my face march through the purple and ashes.
Make me one of the fire singers to winter.
-------------------- Carl Sandburg