The dawn will find me

Drawn down the dividing line

Fields lying to either side

Abundant or fallow or aflame

This journey comes

Like a pilgrimage

A prayer to create better

To find doors

That are ready to be opened

And it is all false:

The dreams and prayers

The hopes for more when time forgot

Our place here in this world

But these fields and this soil

The tired limbs and backs broken

By the force of labor

Are more real

Than any creation

I might conjure – Caroline A. Slee