Ruthie and Belle’s Farm, Irwin Ohio

The fields are memories still,
like prayers.
I want to fall
face down in furrows.
searching for the scent
of last year’s corn.
I want to follow solemn apostrophes
left secret in the mud
from the hooves of cows,
or pull peppermint
rough leaves
fragile roots
to hang in my kitchen.
I want to stand as a tree
reverently
at the edge of those pastures
branches upraised
hymning the wind.

Appeared in the Spring 1989 issue of Calliope.