Stephanie Anderson

WITHOUT ANY BITTER ALKALI

 

 

Working at an offer for a half-section of land sold to Mr.  a depth of  eighteen hundred dollars

     They had struck

After five attempts the fire was burning patches of windows and more stones became evident

     As the custom

A windmill ended the tedious job of moving our house to the narrow side compounded

     By cramped taste

Hauling the dirt up with a windlass water begins to bubble the bottom of the well they let out

     A holiday whoop

Later was equipped with lumber to crib in the new well up in the hole quarters and a sense

     Of hopelessness

The excursion train plays with how desolate neighbors now seemed so far away

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