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"The Scarecrow Describes the Storm" by Moran
Sometimes, it's like when the farmer's daughter
drives the tractor home from the next field over.
And at first you can't hear anything.
And then you can, but it's a small sound,
and maybe you really aren't hearing anything but a ringing in your head.
Sometimes it's like that, too.
You think you felt something wet on your face,
or maybe a drop on your head,
but then maybe it was just a bit of straw shifting under your hat,
and so maybe it's nothing.
But then -- it's like when the farmer's daughter appears over the western ridge,
the thrum of the tractor she rides -- you can almost feel her in your own guts.
You know the storm's coming now.
You can see the dust jump up into mud
and you can hear
the rumble of thunder over the ridge.
And you're shaking and writhing, but anchored,
pole deep in the ground.
Through it you can feel her –
the good earth -- take it all:
taking the slam and pound of the rain!
taking the circle of rhythm round the fields!
And when, at last, the lightning spikes down and explodes over the farm
with a cry of thunder,
the good earth -- she echoes it,
her sound – like bells on the hills.
And then the rain falls with a steady and gentle touch.
A rainstorm is music
to the scarecrow's ear
Lightning, thunder takes his breath away
He'll always love the farmer's daughter
He'll always bow when she comes near
Look and touch - it takes his breath away