Your Thanksgiving Poem

This from Ted Kooser's book, "Sure Signs; New and selected poems" I hope you are all having a lovely day.

In The Corners of Fields

Something is calling to me

from the corners of fields,

where the leftover fence wire

suns its loose coils, and stones

thrown out of the furrow

sleep in warm litters;

where the gray faces

of old No Hunting signs

mutter into the wind,

and dry horse tanks

spout fountains of sunflowers;

where a moth

flutters in from the pasture,

harried by sparrows,

and alights on a post,

so sure of its life

that it peacefully opens its wings.