A Field To Remember Poem by sylvia spencer

Daffodils grew in a field that I once remember
but now it looks like a bleak field in November.
You could drive down the hill and see a yellow bed
but that was before the land went dead.
This once beautiful field of the yellow Daffodil, where
the mud and dust crumbles as it loses it's will.
There is no fight left in this sad old field where only
Daffodils were grown to yield.
Year after Year I wonder if the spring will bring them back
but the land is so hard it's a job to crack.
An odd one appears just now and again but that's when the
field has had continous rain.This field has gone fallow it will
never be the same, but why is like it and who is to blame.