An eerie glow filled
a dust-darkened sky,
yet one more rainless day,
with a hot, driving wind
trading soil between
neighboring states.

Sudden calm stills the wind,
a metallic air feels oddly heavy.
Horses snort and toss anxious heads,
low moans come from the bunched cattle,
and chickens halt their ceaseless scrabble
for sparse seeds of grain within the dust..

A promising freshet of cooling breeze,
flashes of heat lightning,
And splintered lightning strikes
out of rain-dark clouds.

A distant roar, and a rising wind
bring huge droplets of rain
clattering on farms’ tin roofs.
Quickly past, the storm
had left only momentary cooling,
drying divots from rainbeads in the dust.

And the chickens searched anew.

Gus Daum


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Memoirs, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to DUST BOWL

  1. MaryJo Comins says:

    And life goes on.. I love your ending image. Actually, all your images are so graphic and well-chosen that my throat is still scratchy from the dust and disappointment lingers at the teasing brevity of the rain.


  2. C Ford says:

    Wow! What a powerful image this paints! It’s always so enjoyable to read about your experiences.


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