The Browning Fields
Dave Clawson
The rain poured down on fields of browning grass Where drought had lived and hardened useless soil Where heat forgot to leave in winter's pass
Now blades of grass unable to uncoil
The sun would come and beat upon the ground No shelter for the helpless aging grain
It withered as its stocks would bend and pound Against the wind the wheat stood frail in vain
But then the rain slipped down the withered blades And drenched the soil in puddles great and small Fields dry since chilling days that winter made Stand green with stocks which in the wind stand tall The drought that hardened browning fields of wheat Has lost to rain that cries for drought's defeat.
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