The wind blew fever-hot across the plain; A lonely windmill creaked against the sky, It screeched as some dark slave in hellish pain From lash of loaded whip, might shriek and cry. The bawling cattle hooked brief bawling lanes Among the milling herd, while clouds of dust Fell hot on saffron grass and scorching grains Like silt from ashes. Cattle ponies fussed And nipped the backs of steers to force a path Toward that near water-trough ... no trickle there ... The lead-pipe fallen down! The groaning wrath Of one gaunt dying cow made wild the air. Her swollen lips, mocked by a sun-baked creek ... An empty trough ... the windmill's lying squeak! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REPORT ON EXPERIENCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HAUNTED HOUSES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BIGLOW PAPERS. 2D SERIES. THE COURTIN' by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THREE BLIND MICE by MOTHER GOOSE MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 7 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONG (10) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A SONG TO DAVID by CHRISTOPHER SMART |