SEASON
Rust is ripeness, rust,
And the wilted corn-plume
Pollen is mating-time when swallows
Weave a dance
Of feathered arrows
Thread corn-stalks in winged
Streaks of light. And we love to hear
Spliced phrases of the wind, to hear
Rasps in the field, where corn-leaves
Pierce like bamboo slivers
Now, garners we,
Awaiting rust on tassels, draw
Long shadows from the dusk, wreathe
The thatch in woods-smoke. Laden stalks
Ride the germ’s decay- we await
The promise of the rust
Wole Soyinka born 1934 Abeokuta Nigeria and won the Nobel Prize in 1986