Planting Shoes
Quelle: Spotify
I will remember long after summer. Locks of lightning fell and it was just as well. I kept your picture so I could carry smells of your garden fare, with my little brother holding fists of turnips there. And I wore your planting shoes. They started telling about you. Too big to fit my feet they started singing of dustbowl days.
O New York journeys, and there were stories of a brown-eyed, curly-headed girl with mischief in her mouth, and it was my mom. I rode your tractor like every cousin before and after. You were strong and tall beside me and wise beyond the mortal draw. I wore your planting shoes. They started telling about you. Too big to fit my feet they started singing of dustbowl days.
When the leaves turn upside down there's sure to come a storm around. I ain't seen that for days. What'll we do with all that rain?! Keep your head to the ground, and your hand to the weed, and your heart full of need. O don't forget! You have mouths to feed. You have mouths to feed, so you go.
Do you dream of England where your fathers met and married? But you were a boy in Union County. The voice through the river reeds, older than the old oak trees. That's what you've come to mean to me, the heritage of East Tennessee.
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