A Poem on the Website of
the Red Dirt Writers Society

Red Chicken
by Rob Brian (Nov 2010)

There’s a red chicken chasin’ a grasshopper.

One fryin’ in the fryin’ pan.

Whippoorwills calm the dyin’ day. 

Drinkin’ cold beer from a can.


There’s red dirt on my weary brow,

As I survey my serene domain, 

Dogs chasin’ kids, and kitty cats,

Cows grazin’ on the plain.


And all the crops are planted, 

And all the hay is cut and baled.

The cows are fat and happy,

Bills are paid, and in the mail.


Little darlin’s in the kitchen 

Hummin’ a country western song,

She says ya’ll get cleaned up now,

For supper won’t be long.


But I can’t rise from this rockin’ chair,

And quit this peace of mind, 

For I can surly tell you,

This feelin’s hard to find.


So darlin’ give me one more minute,

Of this sunset’s last array,

Let me paint my memory,

From the colors of a perfect day. 



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