The Mother of the Rivers
The Mother of the Mountains
The Mother of the Trees
The Mother of the mud and magma, her primordial ooze that made man.
And the Mothers in the wind, that dance amongst the starlit trails
and leave their footprints in the sand.
Daughters and sisters plucked like poppies and papaya; ripened at first moon but sweet-tart before then.
Fair trade?
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