the gentle oxen
let go wagon yoke depart
north of a seed field
no farmer began
no harrow no hoe nor whom
belong o’er a flood foothill
what time a carbine
above barter for a box
from the keeling curved
Poetry
the gentle oxen
let go wagon yoke depart
north of a seed field
no farmer began
no harrow no hoe nor whom
belong o’er a flood foothill
what time a carbine
above barter for a box
from the keeling curved
