Summer Sun

Wheat fields down a lonely dirt road where gravel flies and dust unfold american trucks with four wheel drive what you need here to stay well alive Sun beams down from early morning Heat is here there is little warning Fields of wheat their smell unique as if the sun gives a taste of its meat Morning fades fast in the fields left with power that nature wields until high noon shines in the sky birds hanging on the silo will soon fly Then cut the fields begin we see a sight not common but it is free a mid-western place seems just right now the sun is fading I think it just might