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Sweet corn tanka, a poem by Laurel Smith

Sweet corn tanka
by Laurel Smith

On Sunday the sweet
corn was perfect: each bite
a confirmation
of every summer memory
laced with butter, salt, warm gold.

By Thursday, in spite
of cool storage, these last three
ears were failures: no
fireworks, poor texture and taste,
bland regret between our teeth.

Cultivars for “sweet”
number over a hundred:
have we known them all?
Zea mays—star of the farmers’
market, perennial favorite.

From Laurel Smith: “I live in Vincennes, Indiana, and happily participate in projects to promote literacy and the arts. My poetry has appeared in various periodicals, including Natural Bridge, New Millennium Writings, Tipton Poetry Review, Flying Island, English Journal, JAMA: Journal of the AMA; also in the following anthologies: And Know This Place, Visiting Frost, and Mapping the Muse.