Jay Chambers
They weaved through the rows
Picking cotton bolls, leaving
Barren stalks, standing like
Skeletons in the sunshine.
The years passed
grains of sand
in the hourglass of time
Dallas went to the navy and
Travis went to work
They reconvened amongst the cedars and the pines
“The Chambers Christmas Tree Farm”
The brothers worked together again
In the silhouettes of Christmas trees at sundown
Their hands no longer picked cotton bolls
Or trimmed fragrant pines
Now they grew old and frail
Dallas passed in ‘11
Granddaddy saw Jesus last Tuesday
They are together again
Weaving through golden streets
Resting from all their labors in eternity