| The Grapes of Wrath cannot, and will not, compare to the Peaches of Love. Those sweet fruits, results, of a power beyond control. A power a force, that can move Joads o r peaks; v e e v r mountains; o of despair. Pa, so tar'd, worked for land; Ma, so tar'd, worked for family; Granma and Granpa, passed away, lived for land; Tom, in hiding, fought for family; Al, complaining, for something he can't have; Noah, gone, insane inside; Connie, gone, didn't know how to be a husband; Rose of Sharon, in pain, couldn't have a baby; Ruthie, stubborn, too young to know; Winfield, stubborn, too young to care; Uncle John, sinning, lost his wife to sickness; and Casy, passed away, wasn't a preacher anymore. All Okies, moving from oppression, the Depression. The "Golden State" isn't gold anymore; it's peaches long since been picked. Thousands of poor... ...still tar'd and hungry. California isn't gold anymore; it's too cold to fellow Americans. All they want is money... ...all they want is money. Only one can have it. No money no food no home no nothing. It never ends. Many Joad families so tar'd. Tar'd. The Winter floods came. Everything lost. And they huddle and die in hilltop barns. The owners looooooong since gone. And back in Oaklahoma, still no rain, the house doors flappin', in the dry wind. Why leave, and come to nothing? Why leave, and lose family? Why leave, and become poor? Why leave, and come to nothing? Because... Because... Because... Because... ...there is nothing left at all. All the people leave, and die. All the people leave, and gain heartbreak. Yet the Peaches of Love remain. In what is left. Yet the Peaches of Love remain. |
| "The Peaches of Love" |
| ©2001 by Rebecca J. Burke & Hashbrown Casserole for the Matchbox Twenty Soul, Inc. |
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| Written in 1997, and inspired by The Grapes of Wrath. |