Snow White Legs and Sunburnt Shoulders

Growing up on the farm, my brother John and i usually wore blue jeans and no shirt all summer. This of course resulted in white legs and burnt shoulders.

This picture was taken over 15 years ago after helping our dad build fence. I wrote most of this poem when this picture was taken and just recently finished it.

I grew up wanting to farm. I knew it wouldn’t make me rich, but it was satisfying work.

Snow White Legs and Sunburnt Shoulders

Will Campbell

A farming life ain’t an easy life.

I tell you that right now.

I reckon some manage to do pretty good,

But to be honest it’s hard to see how.

Uncertainty is the only guarantee

When you’re working with life and the land

The sun comes up and the world goes round  

But rarely does it go as you planned.

So many things guaranteed to go wrong.

So many things that I can’t control.

So much work day after day

Yet drifting further away from the goal.

You get paid for the harvest and not by the hour

Unpredictable, but it’s only fair.

Until after the time and the work is put in

But the harvest, it just isn’t there.

Count down the days till the paycheck comes in

Cause the money is getting pretty tight.

Then when the harvest finally does roll around,

You expect things to turn out all right.

But after the banker, bills, and repairs,

And the piece of equipment just bought,

That little bitty paycheck that finally came in

Doesn’t go quite as far as I thought.

But I’ll keep on working and trying my hardest

Just trying to pay down my debt.

But these snow while legs and sunburnt shoulders

Might be all that I’ll ever get.

Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking

When I chose this farming career.

The money you get out from the time you put in

Doesn’t seem to be very clear.

So I work year round, six days a week.

For what? I do not know.

And these snow white legs and sunburnt shoulders

Is all I have to show.

But seeing the sun shining over this land

I pause for a moment and stare

Then find an ol’ tree and lean up against it

And breathe in that clean mountain air.

I could probably get a job in town

Less work for a whole lot more pay.

But some folks live and never get a glimpse

At what I get to see everyday.

A picture can’t capture a warm summer breeze

It can’t capture the smell of spring rains

Words have the power to send beauty through time

But some things even words can’t explain.

Here on this hillside looking out at the mountains

Lit up with the sun’s golden rays

I think God used some special stuff

To make it look that way.

Then I get back to work and think to myself,

“Yep, this is the life for me.”

These snow white legs and sunburnt shoulders

Is all that I really need.

Will Campbell