and my body bent
like a young green blade
and my arms were strong
and my fingers nimble
as I planted the sprouts
that would flourish with rains
that once ripened and gleaned
would nourish our bodies
working till fields were burned
leaving ashes midst stubble
and now as I tire
as the sun retires
too tired perhaps yet
my heart full of joy
and I open my lungs
and sing of deeds done
to the glow
of the fireflies dancing
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