by Richard L. Provencher
3/15/2008 / Poetry
Caught up once again in famine, a
young woman relives 1984 memories:
once a child, saw lives tossed aside in
abundant numbers, adults so weak
trekking to food centers. In a nurture
of love young ones received last
bits of flour, rain vacant across the land.
All grown up on today's path, she
repeats the horror of famine smothering
anyone who dares accept defeat. Now
she cries out for her own young:
"Holy water, spray on crops, return
from the sky, oh rain."
Richard L. Provencher 2007
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