Country Rain

by Betsey Mae Graves with art by Mary Arneson

If you grew up in the west like I did
If your daddy farmed the land like mine did
Then you love the rain
You love the rain

Hear that sound, smell the air
My momma said
As the thunder rolls without a care
The ground is fed
Daddy thanks the lord, prays for more
So the crops will grow
He loves this land right through his core
As friend or foe

Grandma says listen to the rain
The angels sing
Don’t ever take the Lords name in vain
Or bells will ring
Grandpa argued all, taught me how
To do things best
He’d prob’ly fight with a puddle
And how it came to rest