On the field he lays fallow,
premonitions of the gallow.
Amidst veined flowers of mallow,
on back does he wallow.

In mourning releases bellow,
this empty, lost fellow;
seeking a caress soft and mellow,
gazing at sun of yellow.

Head upon grassy pillow,
lifting from shade of willow.
Sees anew his path to follow,
a life broad but hollow.



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