The cloud of dust followed behind
as the farmer plowed his field
I didn’t know it at the time
just how the dust did feel,
I had not thought about it
or what was his intent –
but no matter where
the farmer plowed
the cloud of dust he went.
Loyal as the family dog
it always ran behind,
making every U-turn
or just in a straight line,
Whenever farmer took a break
the cloud would lay down too
curl up at the farmer’s feet
his head upon his shoe.
The farmer wouldn’t see him
as he looked across the plane
for the cloud of dust would never play
on the days that it would rain.
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