Freezing Valentine

I get to wonder now I'm old
About the race of men cold
Mornings when we spread
Odd towels and worn sheets
To cover the flowers from a freeze
Here in the desert
It looks like laundry day
And we've returned to the old ways
Of life as itinerant drifters
And poor immigrant farmers
Wandering in the desert
Seeing all our troubles come
From trying to settle down somewhere
And build a so-called home