CUL-DE-SAC

Rows of corn blanket the land 

Small towns look smaller each year

You wonder what was there before the corn.  

Forest? Grass? Wandering people?

But when twilight burns the sky 

And the stalks stand like soldiers

Those plants that were sown by nature 

That held the earth in their shelter

They’re gone. 

So are the tribes that were here 

That gave their name to the state

And now there’s a new face

On the place where I grew up  

And the land it just blew up 

With the wind. In the rivers. 

Where it’s gone we don’t know.  

We will gather what we sow.

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