Accept a Corn of Wheat Fall
I can’t remember if I started out in a package
or a bag. Illegal as can be, I'll be sown
into the privacy of the owner's yard. In late fall,
before the dark winter, I will once again
be surrounded by three inches of black.
Inside my safety bran of night, I sense
radicle movement in two directions.
Within weeks, half of me will burst the surface,
accosted by light. The pain. The pain.
The exposure. Soon enough,
I will harden my external security
and press toward full maturity.
I expect to find
the same end
as my hero,
the Baptist.
--T.A. Sukany 17 April 2021
I can’t remember if I started out in a package
or a bag. Illegal as can be, I'll be sown
into the privacy of the owner's yard. In late fall,
before the dark winter, I will once again
be surrounded by three inches of black.
Inside my safety bran of night, I sense
radicle movement in two directions.
Within weeks, half of me will burst the surface,
accosted by light. The pain. The pain.
The exposure. Soon enough,
I will harden my external security
and press toward full maturity.
I expect to find
the same end
as my hero,
the Baptist.
--T.A. Sukany 17 April 2021