thoughts...maybe

             South Central Kentucky

With shoulders of no forgiveness,
The narrow highways
Seem aimlessly muddled
About the countryside.
They are as randomly laid
As one would blindly
Toss strands of baling twine
     Into the wind.

Extended fields of tobacco,
Beans and corn hem the roads.
Cross road hamlets
Resemble decrepit ghost towns
And the multitude of barns
Look more like crippled winos
Stumbling about the fields.

August withers under
The relentless punishment
            Of the sun,
While desparadoes spike
          The tobacco,
Readying it for the barns.
The choking fields of corn
Yellow and brown-
          Not much longer
Before being harvested
          For silage.
Country music stations
Clutter up the airwaves
With the same songs
In mind-numbing repetition.

Yet.....
In this all, you will find
A few good souls
That enrich your life.