splicing kernels

saw a small man
who appeared in need
heard someone shout
he’s a roadside weed

he had no sign
he did not speak
he carried a bag
into which i tried to peek

we crossed paths again
the following week
rambling ’round peaks
scuttling ’bout creeks

they called him
jack corn kernelseed
splicing kernels
with another breed

he hailed from
the hybrid diocese
crossing corn with
everything but peas

his best buddies
were the buzzing bees
his favorite song
the whispering breeze

he traveled this land
far and wide
a satchel of kernels
at his side

jack planted in rows
every mile he walked
yet whenever i saw him
we never talked

wherever corn grows
atop slender stalks
it might have been jack
seeding tasseled flocks

remember the name
jack corn kernelseed
an ear at a time
does his crop feed

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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