Windy West Texas blows my dreams away
like tumbleweeds 'cross wind scoured clay.
My father's tractor creates a dust devil
in the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the day
from terrace to terrace, not one terrace level
I crack the soil so the cotton will grow.
and see no future in small, weevle'd bolls
Nor chance in Hell I'll ever get away
the tractor's drone drowns out my songs
the day is hot and dry... and long
the warm water-bag cannot quench my thirst
my dreams, like the clods I burst
scatter in dusty disarray
and hour by droning, heated hour
Windy West Texas blows my dreams away
I like how you use the word 'away' at the beginning, middle, and end. Reinforces both the urgency and futility. the tractor's drone drowns out my songs the day is hot and dry... and long Provides such a nice change of cadence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely piece of poetry, well articulated and nicely penned. The poem remains me of Texas Tornadoes. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.