Oklahoma Panhandle Term Analysis

But the grasshoppers ate every leaf,
they ate every piece of fruit.
Nothing left but a couple apple cores,
hanging from Ma’s trees.
I couldn’t tell her,
couldn’t bring myself to say
her apples were gone.
I never had a chance.

Ma died that day
giving birth to my brother.

My father will stay, no matter what,
he’s stubborn as sod.
He and the land have a hold on each other.
But what about me?

Don’t forget us, they say.
But there are so many leaving,
how can I remember them all?

My father is waiting at the station
and I call him
Daddy
for the first time
since Ma died,
and we walk home,
together,
talking.