we wander moonlit cornfields
in and out of shadows
of living growing things
taunting what we leave behind
there is room to breathe here
between the stalks
in the stalks
everything is breathing here
and there is something large here
larger than these fields
flowing out in contoured rows
so simple it cannot be seen
growing well in the cool crisp air
That was a beautiful post. Makes me think of our trip to Garden City! Love you!
Dave
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Yes, exactly! 🙂 That is what brought this poem and piece to mind. What a special trip.
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