The Screen Door To The Farmer's Porch

To The Back Porch, To The Backlands

It's Never Left Closed



A New Air Pushed A Full Wind

That Brought Worlds On Through

That Only He Could Know



As The Last Of November Passed

With His New Life, With His New Wife

She Said She Was Feeling A Little Cold



The Ghost Of A Clown Just Danced In And

Did A Few Tricks And Danced Out Again

Warming A Farmer's Soul



Summer Was All There Was

We Were Working, Breathing Heat

Terror Rising Out Of Control



Through That Door Came A Breeze

Wrapped On Through Our Heads And Around Our Spines

Cooling Off The Burning Floor



The Morning's Breaking Woke Us Long Enough

We Were Sure We Could See

The Whole Of Some Older Birds

Riding To The Ground On The Falling Leaves

Riding To The Ground On Some Falling Leaves

One Last Time

One Last Time

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