Dirt roads and sunsets and cottonwood trees,
Sunflowers tall in the warm summer breeze.
Black Angus cattle on green, grassy hills,
Empty farmhouses and run-down windmills.
Scissor-tailed flycatchers on telephone wires,
Leaping flames in the dark of the spring pasture fires.
A hawk wheeling free in the blazing blue sky,
The sound of a coyote's wild, lonesome cry.
Thunder and hail, the wind's savage gust,
The cold scent of rain in the hot summer dust.
Barbed wire and hedgeposts, the wheatfields in June,
Stars over the prairie, the warm harvest moon.
When I am old, and my best days are past,
When my mind's growing dim, and my memory fades fast,
I hope I remember the beauty of these:
Dirt Roads,
And Sunsets,
And Cottonwood Trees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good work, Titus! -Andrew & Natalie Koehn