Secrets

The cornfield in the moonlight where the shadows dance and sway

Is not the same at midnight as it is throughout the day.

The field is hushed at midnight; the world has gone to sleep;

But the cornstalks nod and rustle at the mysteries they keep.

Who moves throughout the cornfield? Who creeps and scuttles near?

What is that eerie whisper? Is that the wind I hear?

The cornstalks keep their secrets; the shadows never tell,

But the moon, so brightly shining, knows all those secrets well.