Visitor

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I stopped by your little house

this morning just before ten

the only sound the low whisper of

red dirt rising in the hot red sun

I guess everything gets thirsty

when there’s nowhere but home to run

I left a note in the door crack

I hope it don’t blow away

I hope you come back real soon

The kids will need reassuring

The fields still need turning

and Vera’s waiting at the river

for you.

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