IN THE HEYDAYS OF HIS EYES
(taut jeans dancing)

An Anthology of Poetry about Being Young and Growing Up
 
 
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LATE NIGHTS

Bret Ogden

Starin' through the black smoke At the pearly white moon, Going round and round. That big green machine is a-workin' Running it's little heart out Going up and over Down and around hills. Got the tunes cranked on country, The AC blowin' the sweat off me, Tobacco spit on the floor. Go back to the farm for some red diesel. Head back to the field to try to stay awake. Go round again and again. Dew starts to settle; Hay is getting tough. Shut down the baler in the field; Make the bumpy ride to the field's edge. Get to the road and about fall asleep 'Cause that ride is smooth. Down the driveway of the farm. Wash my dirty brown face; Shut the shop down; Head home down the driveway. Sun waiting to rise again.

 
 
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