Husking Corn

Husking Corn

I love husking corn,
Watching the bucket overflow with husks and hair,
Oh the soft, yellow corn hair that always seems to stick.

I sit on the back porch and face the sunset,
The summer's warm rays upon me.
I sing, or think, or talk out loud.

Then I give my dog a pat on the head and turn
To go inside.
I hear the clatter and clutter of a summer's canning.

Peaches, pears, plums, green beans...
I only eat mom's.
I hand over the corn and watch it slip into the boiling water.

Beside it is a bubbling pan of zucchini and chard.
To the right, fresh zucchini bread.
I love summer's bounty.
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I wrote this poem in 2001. I spent that summer writing poems; they mostly revolved around my farm upbringing. I do love living on our farm again. I love living seasonally. It makes each season something to be embraced. Right now we are eating more corn, tomatoes, and plums than we know what to do with, but that is OK. For a time will come, very soon, when they will be no more. It is a very seize-the-day type of life.

The picture is of my grandpa, my sister, and I. He used to come down each September and help with the corn harvest. He is now 97 years old. He still asks about our orchard and garden.

You'll notice I talk about summer in this poem. Even though school has started and the summer is waning, it is still summer. September 22nd is the first day of fall. So, embrace these last days of this warm, free season.