We Are Not All Like Corn
planted in neat even rows
in newly tilled spring soil,
to poke through green and
come to full height by fall,
to be harvested then all at once.
Some are winter wheat,
plant late, harvest late.
Some grow wild in unlikely places
in forests or fields, and would wither
in the glare of hot summer sun.
Some grow in the desert, some in marsh,
each plant has its own beauty and utility,
its own cycle of sowing and blooming.
As do we, could we see it.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
Copyright © 1996