Collards sprouting in old fields
Become green as green can be.
They soak up morning sunshine
As they wake up happily.
Daybreak dew glistens on leaves
That sparkle like priceless stones
As they create nutrients
Needed to strengthen our bones.
Rain storms crash over the fields.
Emerald leaves come to life
And soon soar like eagle wings
But quickly fall by our knife.
Into kitchens we bring them
To wash sand from their thick veins.
We heat our favored kettles
Often filled with captured rains.
Unable to stand the heat,
Leaves wilt like a jailed sinner.
We poke sometimes too often
To see if set for dinner.
To evening table they come
Where they claim a place of pride
Next to pork dishes we crave.
Ready for blessings, they bide.
Note: This poem was prepared in appreciation of the Fifth Annual Collard Festival in Maxton, NC, that I attended on Nov. 13, 2010.