The land lies
Chilled and stilled.
Whether flatlands
Or rolling hills.
Damp, cold, and alone;
She doesn't feel at home.
It's hard to feel at home
Where warmth and purpose seem
To be in decline or have departed.
The land knows that she was made to yield;
To yield grain, nuts, fruits, and vegetables.
But when she gives pause and thought,
She realizes that she's right at...
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