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page 21   

Roger Jones, USA


He said, I'm going off to lie fallow, to do nothing at all.

He said, Let the tools lean against the house and sleep.

Let the sun sink behind the sagging barn.

He said, Someone else can get in the season's hay this time.

Someone else can round up the straying cattle.

I'll stay home, he said, and use the time now to take stock of harvest –

to gauge how much of it was worth what it took me to gain it.

old corral
wisp of a mule's mane
snagged on barbed wire


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