Sammi Cox has posted another weekend writing challenge.
I’m taking a break from editing this morning and feel inspired by the thought of furrows and wind, so I’ll offer this response:
The everlasting wind sweeps over the furrowed fields brushing the topsoil —what’s left of it — into the grooves left by the plough last fall before the farmer — weary of everlasting wind,
of watching the snowless fields drift, — left for good.
I’ve heard enough about the “dustbowl years”
that they blow through my writing at times. 🙂
It’s time for another Friday Fictioneers post and today’s prompt inspired me with a poem of sorts. Many thanks to our patient and inspiring host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for shepherding our FF group through green pastures teeming with tales, and to Danny Bowman for the challenging prompt. I see the various muses have been productive even given this barren landscape to write about.
Speaking of productive, I’m delighted to tell you all that my book is published and now live on Amazon! (Fireworks and cartwheels 🙂 ) Silver Morning Song is a collection of poems, short stories and fables. I plan to publish it on Kobo as well; I’ll likely spend today doing that, plus setting up an Author Account on Amazon and generally telling the world. And as all authors will say, I’d really appreciate reviews. 🙂
On to today’s prompt:
Right now we seem to be in a world of unprecedented water and storms; eighty years ago it was unprecedented drought. I’ll dedicate this verse to all the poor inexperienced homesteaders who came to these Great Plains and were advised to deep-plough their fields every fall. Took the ‘Dirty Thirties’ to prove agricultural advisers of the day so wrong. Farmers today practice “no till” farming.