sunset boulevards
happy return of a barrow boy
ready mother for his bar mitzvah
bargain not my hard service
in our life
mist up mountains melts
happy valley burns
farmer’s fingers runs through empty barns
life in dry-stone wall, dry-eyed
dry rots moments now
dry clean dried fruit. dried milk borrowed from dryland

lovita j r morang

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stone-wall-3/