Drought

Dust devils ride across the prairie wide

Hot dry winds are burning

Red anxious eyes search the prairie skies

For rain they are yearning

Chorus:
There will come a day when dust clouds roll away

And rain will fall again upon the scene

An offering from above for the prairie that we love

And life will be renewed in lovely shades of green

Beef cattle thin drift with the August wind

In search of grass a-lowing

Sharp hooves have trod thin prairie sod

And set dust clouds blowing

Sun-parched fields promise scanty yields

The mortgage alone is growing

Human spirits bend before the hungry wind

That gleans the fruits of man's sowing

Farm ponds dry neath a cloudless sky

Wheat prospects are decreasing

The windsong sings of better things

But the drought remains unceasing

Fred Atchison Sr. (Fall 1977)