The thirsty ground opens its cracked lips
Begging for moisture of any kind
Windmills are all working overtime
Looking for water they cannot find...
Dust swirls around in billowing clouds
Carrying topsoil to faraway places
Swept away while dust devils play,
Working hard on removing all traces...
Bleached bones lie strewn in open fields
Where crops are withering and ready to die
Farmers packing up and moving away
One can hear them breathe a collective sigh...
Farmers all say they didn't give up on the land
But rather, land and sky gave up on them
Maybe they'll farm again in another place
But the outlook here is much too grim...
The wind blows its hot dry breath
Through begging trees and dying leaves
Rain dances far off in the distance
Mocking and taunting while the farmer grieves...
Many signs pop up - Land For Sale!
The sign stays until it rusts away
Eventually some big company
Will buy it all up for a rainy day....
