Sometimes
Sometimes, it bees that way.
Sun and moon no longer light,
the night or the damn day.
Been tha ways for so long,
feel like I's been dead and gone.
Dropdead and lost my mind gone.
She had to leave me afore,
the springtime planting came.
Worst time of all, jus plain lame.
Ran off with some gamblin's man,
promised to put riches in her hand.
While I work the dirt best I can.
Sometimes, it bees that way.
Woman comes, then goes away.
Ain't no rhyme or reason, anyway.
But it's been awful dark,
this rain soaked muddy spring.
Lookin' for her smile to bring.
Sunshine back into my life.
End this awful time of strife.
Sometimes, it bees that way.
Jus lookin' for that sunny day.
Man Plowing in the Rain Courtesy Wikimedia.org
Just thought I'd write a poem based on this
expression I first heard when I came to Texas,
but don't hear it very much anymore. The fatalistic
Jim Crow acceptance of the worst that could happen.
eMail Me
More Poems
My
Place
Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull
5/19/21
It's in the Water and Other Stories
American Mole: The Vespers
select 4/to nine Verge of Apocalypse Tales