“I never knew this man,” said the woman.
“And I never knew that woman,” said the man.
And together for years they never knew
each other.  It was the driest of all seasons,
like summers that smelled of slightly
wet husks of corn dabbled by a rare
storm.  They tilled their own fields,
beneath a scornful bursting-needing
heart and dug rows of soil away from
each other.  Curiously, they planted
the same seeds and gave as much to their
own ground.  But apart.

The crops never took.
And famish ruled their land.
All because they never chose
to share the same till!

:: 04-06-2015 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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