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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DUST-BOWL, by DAISY LEMON COLDIRON First Line: Out of the murky west Last Line: And the bones of a kiowa! Subject(s): Drought; Dust | |||
Out of the murky west Ten million swords of pain -- Oh, wind-tormented jest! Oh, mockery of bitter rain! These swirling clouds that blot the sky -- (Where now the long clean winds' far call?) But more than dust is riding high, And more than tears, this saffron pall! Low-winging game, the antelope -- I think I hear them round me pass; The herders' dream, the hunters' hope, And thrice ten million blades of grass! All is not silt the Furies fling! Crying in their grip -- I saw -- Freedom's estate -- a holy thing -- And the bones of a Kiowa! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PECK OF GOLD by ROBERT FROST DUST IN THE EYES by ROBERT FROST IN THE DUST by ALICIA SUSKIN OSTRIKER AN OLD BURYING GROUND by ELFRIDA DE RENNE BARROW OKLAHOMA by DAISY LEMON COLDIRON |
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