Wealth

By
I sit on the porch in my last tattered skirt
And watch the last of our chickens peck the sun-scarred dirt.

The sun taunts the ground with wild powerful force
As ever too slowly it runs its cruel course.

Oh disappear summer sun! Oh come summer rain,
And make stop the endless hours of moistureless pain.

But no cloud is there to soothe the deaqueous crust
As golden fields of produce slowly crumble to dust.

But lo, what’s that comin’ up the gravel bed there?
I wrap the little clothes I have around me, and smooth my monstrous hair.

He’s comin’ in his rust bitten Cadillac,
The one we know he’s too poor to own.
I run out to the car without lookin’ back
To us rust is as good as chrome.

He steps out of the car, grinning ear-to-ear
He folds me away in his arms and he hides me.
From poverty, and every last fear
They’re all gone when he’s here beside me.

Then we walk through fields of emerald green
And we’ve both got plenty to eat.
The clothes we wear are fresh and clean,
And we’ve got brand new shoes on our feet.

And we have chickens, and cattle, and sheep and grain
All at our villa by the sea.
With golden fields and silver rain
But all that’s there is him and me.

He gives me a kiss of sweet summer’s bliss
Then returns to the front seat of his car.
As the engine rumbles away with a clank, clank, clank
all that’s left is the crumbling earth hot and charred

So back I sit on the porch in my last tattered skirt
And watch the last of the chickens peck sun-scarred dirt.





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