Saturday, November 3, 2012

Train child

a woman now she
lives each day that is given
past has no import
to a young farm girl
nor the woman she became
husband, ten children
it would change nothing
the moment is what matters
today’s crop is all
the long train ride west
just words from a past long gone
that child’s tears long dried
lineage of blood
incarnations of the soul
paint her here and now

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