Dakota Rattlesnake Charm

Wheat fields sough
like the evening skirt
of a city lady
with her train in the dirt.
The old side-winder
with diamond back
and his tail half out
and  his head in the stack.
The summer sun
glints off the gun
of the farmer
who slicked and hacked
to put the rattles
in his sack.
and tie them in his daughter’s hair
to  tell them fancymen  “beware,”
—the hack-a-sack man
who sold those nighties
turned small town girls
into aphrodites.
Drove their souls
to the city nights,
to men and music,
words and lights.
’til they pull her down,
uncoil her hair,
a sudden rattle,
and she’s not there!

For NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 20