Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Some Days the Wind

A faint odor of dust lingers on the air
As I sit inside and work from my chair.
Around me drones the incessant roar
Of the howling wind outside my door.

It is days like this I wonder why
I live in this place windswept and dry
Where the sky can turn an ugly brown
From dirt that is blowing round and around

And driving the road is like a video game
Where tumbleweeds roll down the middle of same
Where fields try to move one grain at a time
Or, sometimes as rocks as big as a dime.

Yep, it's times like these that I'd like to go
To a place where it's green and the wind doesn't blow,
Where trees touch the sky and bright waters flow
And cattle graze in the valley below

But, then I remember the wind too shall pass
And the beautiful sky no place can surpass
With air that's so pure you can see for days
As I dream in the warmth of gentle sun rays;

Where humidity is never  too high or too low
And the quiet gentle breezes always blow
Across the endless sea of grass
Where once the scouring wind did pass.

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