The Land of Four Suns
the land of five suns
each with its duty
one dries beads of dew
that stagger as rodent
from rabbit hole
another people’s hopes
that form in dreamy eyes
of orphans
milk from udders the other dries
that no woman may hold a child
the last one everyone enjoys
marriages it bakes
as hard as leather bags
floating among hyenas
in grandfather tales
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