Fields

A rusted tin roof
And empty window frames
A crumbling porch
That the grasses claimed
It’s nobody’s home no more

A plowed field in spring
And prayers about the weather
Rows of corn run
From the road to forever
A rear window masterpiece

Images, but no words
A memory, a memory
All that’s been lost
A melody recalled from a dream

A small city kid
With my fingers torn
Blood on my hands
From the cotton boles
The lives I’ll never know

A fallen-down fence
By a road with no name
Somehow my steps
Brought me back here again
And God, it’s so many miles

Images, but no words
A memory, a memory
All that’s been lost
A melody recalled from a dream

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