Monday, 24 August 2009


Dried dirt rests on my hands.

It is interesting to see

You and I,

Sitting across from this table

Looking eye to eye.

I wander if you knew

That the field I chose has changed

What was abundant in its former days,

Bears no fruit today

and now

I am left looking across a barren field

Time has come,

For a change in direction

A change in luck

A change from nothing to everything.

And I give everything

Knowing I may gain nothing.

The forecast is unforgiving,

But I will carry on working

with my dirt dried hands.

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