Famine

Cold and rippling diamonds passed the brook beneath the willow tree These jewels they trickled through our hands then a million times a million we Our voices long since faded away now left these sullen stony lands The mournful ghosts of our leaving Without sweet child or loving hands Raggedy people on raggedy feet left a river just for grieving A chorus without its verse and sounds without meaning Then their ghosts slipped from the cracks as the sun did finally recede Among mortar dust and grass and bowing blades of water reed Yet none care now but that child who slumbers in this bitter ground He dreams of people far away let evening kiss his burial mound