The last rains come gently
I find myself walking
Through willows and swales of grass
Gazing out across the land
The air is thin the sky is pale
Birds are passing with broken cries
Dogs and squirrels barks
Rise high into the night
The men they came in black closed cars
Said it’s over when the land is poor
Raise my crop and feed my kids
Those of my blood
A nightmare to me
At length I will fall asleep
My eyeballs heavy and red
Windows raised to the cool night
My heart too full for words