By Adam Gibson ©

Crop dusting

crop
dusting

there are secrets
held by the sad cropduster
who sleeps with his head in his hands
because of all the things he's done and dusted
and the tired and tested men fall from the branches
of their family trees with the energy of a leaf
falling from above on a still night
with no wind and no dew
on the ground and
no-one around
to hear or
make
a
sound
underneath
a sky that once was
torn with the screams
of crops being dusted
towards their own oblivion