Poem: A Farmer from the South | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine
I am a farmer from the South; nothing in my pocket but oranges. Look at my face, it is brown and look at my hands, they are white. I am from here, from the south, an Eastern man with a dreamy soul. Yes, I am a dreamer from the South; my heart bears nothing but simple love and my mouth smiles without cause.

Comments (0)
Add a Comment
  • or

Support Chronogram