|The Marijuana Grower (standard:poetry, 115 words)|
|Author: kendall thomas||Added: Jan 12 2001||Views/Reads: 2536/5||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Who wants to be a millionaire?|
The Marijuana Grower by Count Flarinsteingottielhorne September is the end of summerís hold. The birds are murmurs in the locust trees that say once more the earth and sky grow cold, once more the end of summerís warming breeze. And here wind rattles corn forlornly. There the monotone of crows forms raucous choirs; and somedays September in black will wear a cover over all the rainy shires. The wood is chopped and lies in stacked-up piles. The emerald snake slides down into the lake. The farmer sits on covered porch and smiles and dreams a dream from which heís wont to wake: Marijuana perfumes the heady air. In time he hopes to be a millionaire. Tweet
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