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Texas Redneck

Contributed by Byrdie on Tuesday, 10th April 2012 @ 10:14:46 AM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems

Texas Redneck (Tractor Driver)

He’s not a whirl wind in the field,
he’s not a devil pushing dust
in denim overalls with bib.
From dawn to dusk he knows of toil
and reaps the harvest in the fall.
Without this redneck, hunger stalks.

He looks for blooms but dry plant balks.
He’s not a whirl wind in the field
erupting sand in grains that crawl
across the land like reddish rust,
yet like a tea pot poised to boil,
he holds his tongue’s smooth spoken glib.

He stores his grains in poor man’s crib
with knot holes where there feeds black hawks
who prey on barnyard rattler’s coil.
He’s not a whirl wind in the field
but coffee buds admire and trust
this man who walks among the tall.

He fights the sand and tries to stall
the death of plants, but his ad lib
is apt to snarl abject disgust
as cadence cuss words code his talks.
He’s not a whirl wind in the field.
He’s just a man who turns the soil.

His tractor squeaks. It calls for oil
and pushes cost against the wall.
He’s not a whirl wind in the field.
He’s lost his shirt, ignores bank’s rib,
and sometimes limps on trails he walks
but he must bust the dried rain’s crust.

At last wee plants stand tall, robust
and choke new weeds ‘til they recoil
and turn to white like blackboard chalks
while fruited stalks give reapers call
and scare crows dupe the ravens’ nib.
He’s not a whirl wind in the field.

Copyright Â© Byrdie ... [ 2012-04-10 10:14:46]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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