A Chapter From Our Lands

by The Juicer

Skipping water, hanging from trees,
They came to the village emptied,
Of city lights and concrete.

Wind shone pale cheekbones,
Brushing apple whites; Of color
they spoke, of worlds beyond, but never like this.

We would remember them.

Like the time they found,
The sleeping peacock babies,
The squawking parents driving us wild.

A discovery, well-known.

Their joy upon sun on thatched roofs:
A meager waiting inside their lives,
They said.

We would remember them.

Trunks under branches, playful toes twisted,
Idle days and concurrent dusk,
Laid down in pools of lakes.

The children of earth, not known.

Hiding in our gardens, seeking
the grass unfailing and green,
Folding and unfolding their arms, they said,

Just so we would remember.

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