My backyard garden—
 
the melons haven’t ripened,
 
neither has the corn.

 
 
 

As autumn deepens,
 
I dream of next year’s garden—
 
squash and beans and corn.

 
 
 

on the scarecrow’s hat
 
reconnoitering the corn
 
an impudent crow

 
 
 

A tattered scarecrow
 
keeps my little patch of corn
 
from marauding crows.

 
 
 

If you need answers,
 
listen to the corn growing
 
under the full moon.

 
 
 

Seven moons ago
 
in a dream I planted corn,
 
hoping it would grow.

 
 
 

With no seeds to sow,
 
I’ll have a barren garden—
 
empty sweet corn rows.

Nights

 
 
 

How many long nights
 
until it’s corn-planting time,
 
and then till harvest?

Breath

 
 
 

Geese in the flyway,
 
stir the garden with your breath!
 
Let the new corn come!

Singing

 
 
 

What are they singing,
 
the corn, the wind, and the geese?
 
This is a new song!