The Little Dust Storm
Grit in my teeth
From a sudden rushing wind
The Kansas sky turns grey
The oldest taste the haze
Remembering a dusty recipe
Dry needles
Pretending to be rain
Pounding on the window
Still the dust flies
Dirt fills up my eyes
Tumbleweeds dancing
A meeting of the prairie garden club
40-50-60 miles per hour
Over too quickly
Or not quickly enough
As a counterpoint to this beautiful poem about the dry history of Kansas, Chairman Joe has a version of Minnesota's current dryness featured on today's Wiktel home page.
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ReplyDeleteIs the Dust Bowl coming back?
Hard to say. Wrote this the other day after a long dry spell and sudden wind gave us a taste of what it must have been like.
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