Poem: They’ve Gone Away

By Robert Graham

My bean seeds have risen
from their repose,
are lined up like crosses
row on row,
a host of tiny green sentinels.

In a week or two,
if the clouds cooperate,
they will be waving at the wind.
It’ll soon be time
For the crafty crow to move in.

Summer will weave its magic web
on my little plot.
The sturdy stocks will grow,
and maybe, just maybe,
Jack will show.

The noisy crow
has found another site,
the quiet deer
have now appeared
to test Jack’s coming expose.

But in late fall,
when Jack is standing very tall,
a dark green monster with many wheels
tells Jack the game is up.
It cuts Jack down;
my beans have gone away.

Excerpt from “The Chieftain”