deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dark Furrows
the sun bent on the skyline
a few hours past zenith
the mist lands 'pon the pines
the mute river runs beneath
i left the small town behind
riding across turned fields
the few drops of winter rains
gave dead earth nothing to yield
a lonely patch of green land
where the sky has somehow kissed
where the children had once passed
the harmful hands, blindly missed
i cast an eye onto the blue,
dark furrows stretch till the end
green trucks slash the thirsty lands
crop this year will never grow
Published 25th Apr 2024
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