In the stunned summer sun

rows upon rows of

silent corn stand

   their postures attentive

but ineffective

except in the order of things.

I hover somewhere overwhelmed 

between grief and loss   


three sisters rambling in freshened fields 

corn, beans and squash

   a symbiotic sweet milk of the earth


The abduction of the corn  

entered    altered  chastened   

bound now to precision   


A singular armada of swollen ears

no longer listening


A survivor

I depend on the humblest herbs

too common to become a sport

Drinking teas steeped in wildness

we mingle in the blood

By moving together though

we gain momentum

Instead of rubbing salt  

like two sticks to start a fire

lamenting these golden

hollow walls



artist: Michal Lukasiewicz


23 responses

    • Bonnie, thank you. Learning curves though…I’m still laughing. I thought this post was scheduled for tomorrow. Spoken aloud is much different for me than working graphically on the page. I was in mid flight when I saw it had posted! Had to work an editing quick step to catch up.


  1. I have not the words to express my admiration for you and your work. Having used words in spite of that fact, I now go silent……………………………………*smile*


  2. ‘A singular armada of swollen ears no longer listening’ breathtaking work – we see Van Gogh disappearing into the field never to re-emerge – thank you Jana


    • I saw his canvasses once in a traveling exhibit, a museum where I worked so I lived with them daily at lunchtime….the colors and brush strokes mystical, something to step into and let pass through me. Your comment stuns me Mark, as the questions mount, and thank you. 🙂


      • Sorry Jana – I am stunned by your poetry and I often find myself running with the first image that jumps into my head. In this case it was the artist disappearing into the cornfield, unknown and unheard.


    • There are many things now, tricking themselves into life and they often seem well established before we are aware of them. The massive scale of this one, more personal because it’s perpetrated in my own country …. the plight of the bees…. certainly must be challenging Natures balancing abilities. And Nature will find balance. But in order to deal with the sorrow of it, I’m looking to the weeds for advice. Thank you Jane, for being carried near and far.


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