Nonetheless there,
Dreams of ownership,
With vows of care.
Hope of her heart,
Work of her hand,
Crop of her own,
A dream of land.
Harvest the wheat,
Thresh it all down,
Load up the wagon,
Take it to town.
"Where's my share?"
The landlord cries.
And deep within her,
Something dies.
The truth hits hard-
There is no way.
Dreams last the night,
But wither by day.
by Karen Nilson
(all rights reserved)
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