Die Feldkapelle
Mary`s little house; no shed of prayer,
But a doll`s church with a small roof aped
and bricked as a church
Somewhere in nowhere; ready for the corn
and heavy nailed boots that bend in prayer;
iron and thick black paint,
Only the flowers in the jam jar are wilted,
The chapel is older than the crop`s hope,
new as the day is older.
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