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134256a018149ae2ec48e48ee2c606a9

eighteen more acres
than e’er there were sons
a living pinned down
by the rain

a faded love letter
was certain intent –
could leave every reason
and burn down the barn

with worry for who
will be baptized on Sunday
who will be gone
when the counting begins

of passion worn thru
by belief in forever –
held by the promise
of home

. . .