i hear the crack of the whip.
the alarm
going off on Monday morning.
i crawl out of bed
and into the world.
i hear the scramble of cars,
the trash truck outside,
the bark of dogs,
the yawns,
the muttering.
is this the life we choose,
or has it chosen us.
we are farmers going out
into the field, planting,
harvesting, praying for rain,
tending to our crops.
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