Dust Bowl Folklore
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How brown are the prairies of Kansas, How dust strewn her roadways today. The sun for the present has left us. The air -- it is murky and grey. But if we should live till next springtime, How green her prairies will be, All starred with beautiful flowers Like the waves of a restless sea. And far in the distance our sorrows, Will seem to have passed away, Like the brown of the lovely prairies, Like the air that is murky and grey. -Mrs. Sarah E. Stotler "Duster" rolling over a town in the plains. Photo courtesy of USA Today. This type of folklore is a poem, specifically an agriculture poem about the Dust Bowl in the 1930's. According to Timothy Egan, author of The Worst Hard Time, " Cattle went blind and suffocated. When farmers cut them open, they found stomachs stuffed with fine sand... the instinctive act of hugging a loved one or shaking someone's hand could knock...