Tumbleweed Poem by mark tallant

Tumbling tumble weed, tumblin’ ‘round the sun baked clay.
The rich Earths gone left ya ‘n’ the deserts dun ya dry.
Search then the wilderness that binds yer like a post.
The parched lands all’s left ya since folk dun sed g’bye.
Remember, but memories grow darker with long distance run.
The light fades, so too the hand o’ God o’er the sparse ‘n’
dyin’ land.
The last wagon wheels kicked up the dust along the rutted
track.
Gone too sounds o’ boozy laughter from the ghost town
Saloon.

No-more drunken rawhides slapin’ girl b’hinds.
No startled stares through painted faces.
Wi’ Fast-draw playing ragtime, chawin’ on ‘is butt.
Only haunting echoes o’ Hee Haa’s ‘n’ six guns
Blasting bolted horses down the once buslin’ main street.
Its just you now ‘tumble weed’, drawn along the breeze
Brushin’ creaky signs, past clatterin’ Shutters,
Down the whistlin’ wind swept dwellin’s ‘n’ ‘owlin’ empty
passages.
A main street, tho’ it ne’er was a one ‘orse town
Now lies deserted, ‘left to rot in its demise.

I knew ‘em high times! For once I had ‘em good,
Yep, long gone tho’, in my not to distant Past.
So it is my once fertile heart turns to desert dust.
And me soul’s lost in its wilderness ‘n’ like you tumble
Weed,
You ‘n’ me same! Bound to roam forever,
Forced to witness, helpless to save!
Our future being somewhere, out there over that
distant ridge,
On the back o’ some wagon train tis where ‘twas
They took jus’ ‘bout anyt’ing was’n’t screwed down!
‘N’ the post that binds me, Tumbleweed,
‘tis the thought 0’ gettin’ back!