Sonnet of the Ear and the Corn

Your ears are what I miss about you most

when you tucked a long lock of golden hair

shelled-back drum, listening to a seashell’s ghost

while earphones ear-plugged songs licit to share

Whose corn-silk tickled out an inward tear

at seeing fields of golden ripened maize:

a small sound calls round, so lend me your ear—

your leap-ear, rabbit-eared be-lobed in daze...

Therefore, tune your ear to the leaves that fall

sideways and back-ways in beat to the pound

of Thunder’s revelations to the small

oceans found in seashells, rippling sound—

Your leap ear deep within begins to ring/

My lunar ear outside could feel you sing/