how many summers
has he spent his nights
as the watchman of the maize
in a mobile uhaul hut with
the best discarded mattress
a companion to constelations
a sheperd guardian of tasseling
stalks whose rattling would wake
him against white tail invasion
he could taste the polenta
before raccoons could hear
the sweet message of the ears
years with his canine companions
as the depths of night rose
quitely around him