February 27, 2025
I climbed up a tree,
And shouted “Sooweee!”
Calling for the animals to come home.
But not one cared a fig,
Not even a sow or pig,
Stalling, those cows, some just lowed.
I looked at the fields
And said, “Dang they aren’t tilled!”
My tractor in the barn she is just broke.
My cheeks go sallow,
At the fields so fallow,
And swore to myself as I slid down the oak.
Working the farm,
You sound the alarm,
Missing rain, we’re dependent on the weather.
And as things go dry,
You begin to understand why,
Why we might sit down and cry together.