Fields fertilized with the dead
and dismembered double-sided
dreams of women – crushed
to tender dust by the moral
meditations of men. Therein blooms
the wild bones of the untraveled
journeys of the dead, to be plucked
by the not-yet-touched child
whose tiny, powerful breath
scatters the not-yet-split seeds
across the barren seas.
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Thanks to Kelli Russell Agodon for the poetry prompt:(http://www.agodon.com/uploads/2/9/4/3/2943768/writing_prompts_by_kelli_russell_agodon.pdf)
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