Daily Archives: September 25, 2012

Curt Stubbs Poet- AND DUST TO DUST


by Curt Stubbs

There ain’t much I don’t know about this land,

The smell of it, the taste of it in the summer

when the sweet birthing rains bring bounty

and the lightning bugs glow just past my son’s fingers.

She groans in the deep dark mornings

when the cattle calve and my old cock rooster

rehearses his songs behind the big barn.

She’s a woman still fertile trusting a man who

who can’t get her with child.

She’s a child alone when the powers gone out

and the summer storms but doesn’t bring rain.

There’s something sad of a morning when the bean fields

gulp dew as the hot sun smirks and the still air stifles;

you can almost hear the land dying under my plow,

her death rattle dry, her last thought on another year’s bounty.

This land kept my daddy alive and his daddy as well

And if the dry heaves don’t kill her,

she’ll keep me and my son and his down the line.

If I thought she’d accept them I’d shed tears like autumn leaves,

and if I thought my prayers would save this farm

I’d wear holes in the knees of my trousers

and burn candles twenty four hours around the clock.

It’s a day sad to dying when dreams dry up;

and dance swirling away in afternoon dust devils,

the roots that held a man to his land

clipped at ground level and the clear sky above

singing the hollow shell meaningless blues.

Curt Stubbs
3880 N. Park Apt. A
Tucson, Az 857719

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