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
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