“The Cows are in the Corn”

This was the shout that was

the call to action on the farm

where I spent  my first 18 years. 

The fences were always at

risk of failing and if that 

happened the cows got into

the corn—and how they did

love the corn and the freedom

to run through the rows of

corn—and tramp tramp down

the crops…this would happen

day or night….the alarm would

be the call from my dad or mother

then we all would run—and run

no one was left out men and women

girls and boys all would run and run

to get the cows back into the pasture

or barn —the call to action has

never left me—the shout of “the

cows are in the corn” is imprinted

in my brain—I am very good at

emergencies to this day—my

Dad always had his Bib Overalls

at the base of his bed on the

floor so he could run at to fix what was 

broken —I too sleep ready for action.

There is always “a ready” on

my mind  “a ready” to face the unexpected.

always “a ready” to chase the cows that

escape the imagined fences of my life.

The cows are forever waiting to

be in the corn….even when all

are gone  in this my sans-farm

life—they those cows are still are a threat.

Some habits never die—we are creatures

of habit whether we like it or not.