i see her in the field,
without shoes, wearing
her wedding dress
that is white and wet
with rain, she is plowing
the earth, struggling
to change the land, to make
it green again, to furrow
the hard, wet soil
and plant seed, but
it's hard, it's impossible
almost to do it alone,
and she is nearly ready
to stop, to lie down,
to let go and let the rain
fill her, to drink
the world dead, to concede.
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