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No Bean Stalks
The Days' have become stale,
the endless sunrises have
lost their meaning in the sky
The land has become dry as bone's
the crops wither away in the blaze,
there is nothing left to see but dust
The Nights are cold and dark,
dreamless sleepings; no howles:
the coyotes have fled to other realms
The hunger is intense but there is nothing left
but dry beans to fill the belly;
all seems lost
