-------The
Bean Harvest-------
The momentum of
progress slows
in the mind of
those
who hear the threshing
sticks,
who have seen the
dance
shake loose a hundred
seeds
borne from one.
A promise turns to an
Autumn wind
and carries the empty
pods
into a meadow of
golden rod,
gold and green
the callused hands
the rhythmic earth
together
manifesting
a memory
of home.
-------
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