Farmer, Annus

Her name was Cry
The first of her kind to indulge my betterment
My betrayal
On the grass we were tacitly dogged
In the open, innocent

Her name was Cry
My head needed to fall to her knees
There I found her secret
My secret
Under the tree we grew to the sun
Out of darkness we came lighted

Her name was Cry
I learned her forever new
Grabbing my things to go became a spiritual practice
I am under the tree on the grass out of the darkness forever new
Not yet lighted.

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