Les plus lus ▸
Illinois Farmer
Bury this old Illinois farmer with respect.
He slept the Illinois nights of his life after days of work
in Illinois cornfields.
Now he goes on a long sleep.
The wind he listened to in the cornsilk and the tassels,
the wind that combed his red beard zero mornings
when the snow lay white on the yellow ears in the
bushel basket at the corncrib,
The same wind will now blow over the place here where
his hands must dream of Illinois corn.