deepundergroundpoetry.com
An Old Man's Weather
The old man’s flat check cap
did little to hide life’s creases
He spoke of the weather,
how it stole life from crops,
broke a man’s spirit
He knelt in the grey soil,
pulled at it with bent hands
The dirt blew away
It’s a right bugger, he said
He pointed to a scarf of cloud
hugging the hills
A good sign for rain , he said
That, and an aching knee
did little to hide life’s creases
He spoke of the weather,
how it stole life from crops,
broke a man’s spirit
He knelt in the grey soil,
pulled at it with bent hands
The dirt blew away
It’s a right bugger, he said
He pointed to a scarf of cloud
hugging the hills
A good sign for rain , he said
That, and an aching knee
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