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Dusty and thirsty and poor
they journeyed for the Promised Land; crossing the Rockies and forlorn valleys with new Christian hopes, with mouths of sand, mouths of lust, with hungry mouths, in paydirt they thrust the Bear Flag and bit the dust as they were: dusty and thirsty and poor. Is this the strand, where hopes fecundate dirt – the Promised Land, I'm not sure. Holy sand, in a golden hourglass, life trickles into the dust; while the pathfinders did tame the Rockies, the rivers, the valleys - alas, hardly they could tame lust. Elena Malec , California 1997
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