POPCORN

I am popcorn popping.
I am simmering in my seat.
I am a kernel in search of a source of heat.
That sizzles. I am that sleek.
I am a full calendar week.
I am this side of winter, before the days grow long.
Leaning over the fence line to the other side of spring.
I am rows of corn waving to the August sun.
I am peering across the fields into all that autumn brings.

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Filed under Poems, Writing

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