#406 The East Texas Soil Poem by Jimmie Arrington

In my head I can hear it all:
Rustling leaves sound like foil
And the steady rhythmic rainfall
Upon the East Texas soil.

My forebears worked and played,
Lived through merriment and toil,
Right there decade after decade
Above the East Texas soil.

I have many fond memories
Which will never fade or spoil.
Roots are planted, not only by trees,
Within the East Texas soil.

While I am here, miles to the west
Of green hills brimmed with oil,
Many friends have been laid to rest
Beneath the East Texas soil.