The Plow That Broke the Plains

Here is a poem I will take to the Medora Poetry Gathering on Memorial Day weekend. It seems relevant to the winds and erosion we've seen here lately.

 The Plow That Broke the Plains

The land spread before them,

a prairie with waving grasses

and roots that reached and weaved

deeply into the virgin soil.

They said that grass would grow so high

that it stood taller than the cows,

and sometimes made them hard to find.

One settler told of the wasted time

they had each day finding missing

cows that had disappeared into lush

growth to eat their fill. Now we read

that deep roots might enjoy talking

with each other to pass the word

on down the line. I suspect they 

spent time laughing about these 

poor folks looking this way and that.

Then John Deere invented something,

it was revolutionary,

a self-scouring steel plow that cut

roots of the Midwestern prairie.  

John Deere was a plain old blacksmith

who picked up a broken saw blade.

He saw potential in its shine,

so take a look at what he made.

It’s called "The Plow that Broke the Plains.”

Then there’s that time it didn’t rain,

the farmers couldn’t harvest grain. 

Then they learned if you turn the grass 

the soil blows away and rises in the air.