Cornfield

I am a kid
Wandering in
A cornfield as the
Evening shadows seem
To make the tall stalks shiver
Knowing they are about to be cut
Leaving cornstalks covering the
Field like knives sharp standing
Up until eventually plowed
Under I slip between the
Dry stalks still tall their
Leaves dry rustling
Wonderfully quiet
With no wind to
Elicit some dry
Wit response
To my bird
Calls and
Coyote
Howls
None
Believable
But youth is
For having fun
And age for memory
Of cornfields and former
Lovers whispering
Come back to
The tasseled
Stalks and
Get lost
Till the
Dinner bell
Brings us home.