Late Night Poetry: Home

It’s time once again for Late Night Poetry here at The Skinny (our motto: you’ll sleep after you eat all that turkey later this month).

Something about this called to me. The reluctance, I think. The surprise when emotion comes from you at something you didn’t think could tug on your heartstrings. “I didn’t know I was grateful”.  Way to go, Bruce.

Home

  by Bruce Weigl

I didn't know I was grateful
for such late-autumn
bent-up cornfields

yellow in the after-harvest
sun before the
cold plow turns it all over

into never.
I didn't know
I would enter this music

that translates the world
back into dirt fields
that have always called to me

as if I were a thing
come from the dirt, 
like a tuber,

or like a needful boy. End
Lonely days, I believe. End the exiled
and unraveling strangeness.

– See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16523#sthash.v3ULVrns.dpuf

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