Monday Morning Poetry, August 7



The corn is down, the gleaning begins.


The gleaners – squirrels and rabbits,

birds and deer – harvest the unharvested kernels.


It’s what you might call a field day,

no objections from the farmer,

no quarreling among the gleaners.


I too am a gleaner coming along

after the scholars have harvested

the works of Dante, Shakespeare,

and John of the Cross.


The experts have stored

in their intellectual silo

the cream of the crop.


I gather a few crumbs

and am satisfied.


Robert Morneau