The Land Speaks
I have been here longer than memory. Before the wheat, before the plow, before the first human foot pressed into my skin, I was dust and mineral and the slow patient work of glaciers grinding mountains into plains. I held the water in my belly and the sun on my face and I waited. Not waiting is not something I know how to do. I am the land, and I am patient. Then came the drought. It lasted...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 7 Views 0 voorbeeld