In the fields

aaaapplepicker

Tell me the story

of the night

of the morn

when they walked in the fields

picking the corn

laughing and dancing

the dance of their life

bitter and sweet

tell it

then cry

let it all out

then say goodnight

Tell me the story

when he dreamt in rhymes

they live again

in the song

in the lines

the story of them

it’s yours

it’s mine

By Estela Caballero

For my father, mother and all the ones before me.

One thought on “In the fields”

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