The Love Song of Tractor Square Dancing

(with deep, grave apologies to TS Eliot)

Let us go then, you and I
While it is the fourth of July
In Earlville, Iowa on a baseball field
Let us go, once the softball has ended,
And the ice cream licked
From waffle cones and dripping on the sodden ground
And the bingo games completed
And in the field the dancers are not lacked for,
And they are square dancing on tractors.

No! I am not a square dancer, nor was meant to be
Am a cool person, one that will do
To mock square dancing, snerk derisively
Nudge my husband, no doubt, a smartass tool
Smug, superior
Full of my own opinion, but a bit obtuse
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous –
Almost at times, the Fool

I grow old… I grow old…
I find the tractor square dancing kind of wonderful.

Shall I cut my hair real short? Do I dare to eschew eating meat?
I shall wear cuffed jean shorts, and walk amongst the cows
I have heard the piggies snorting, pig to pig.

I have seen them square dancing on tractors
Dosidoing their John Deeres across the municipal ballpark
When the floods receded and the corn was kind of short.

And the tractor square dancing was kind of awesome