the fields of dispossessing
have passed to other hands,
that is, i think,
tradition in these lands
and all lands, actually
the summer rains are sweltering
and we've been helter-skeltering
and sheltering
and harboring our fears,
but those we packed up with
the little bit of pride that we had left.
there is no steinbeck here,
no chronicle of what we had and lost,
that's somehow lyrical
it's just a bunch of mud
and
generations
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Tagged: Tags Poetry Social Commentary
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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