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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
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Tuesday, 20. May 2003

A Farmer's Wife Love Poem



I have been learning How to love Like the earth: Its cool impartiality to seed Of weeds or grain. Both are same To it, as it follows its unconscious duty To pulse their hidden dormancies Into a living light.

Yet each soil is partial To a particular seed. On our farm, it is white cotton Just as in me, it is yours!




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