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Brown as a penny,

As strong as an ox

Stirrup leathers lining the barn,


Fresh meat in the shed

Outdoors all day,


Watching horses eat hay

Wary of thieves,
Many physical alterations have come

A crow flies over,


It is a metaphor of nothing

The root of my new life,


Planted in that hill

Lodged in rainstorms,
Since father has died

Months of Labor,
It has changed me

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