Lois Cook

(Gainesville, GA, USA)

Field

As the old man plowed in the noon day sun,
dust devils billowed toward the sky.
And sweat ran down his sun burned face,
replacing tears, he would not cry.
To proud to stop and rest awhile,
or ask for someones helping hands.
He plowed the furrows deep and straight,
and dropped his sweat onto the land.
For this he wanted for him self,

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