Dustbowl Breakdown
I got wed in twenty-two.
Took this place with mortgage, new.
Built a fence around my land,
plowed that grass with my own bare hands.
Planted collards, corn and beans.
Prettiest spread you ever seen.
Rain don’t come, it leaves you dry,
Underneath that big old sky.
Got no river, ain’t no rain,
lonely here on the great dry plain.
Nature’s older, bigger’n me.
You can’t cheat her, no sirree.
Twenty acres turned to dust,
my new tractor, gathering rust.
Wind blew down from Cimarron there,
big black dirt all in the air.
Ain’t no beans or collards now,
ain’t no nothing left to plow.
Heading out for Monterrey,
nothing here to make us stay.
Windmill, tractor, homestead, plow:
wind and dust can have ‘em now.
Copyright © Michael Coy | Year Posted 2017
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