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Holes - Odd Magazine
A Poem By Pheletso Lehlehla Fathers who gardenHe gets up at 6 am to nurture the soilWith his shovel he begins to dig my graveThis summer the rain didn’t comeThe spinach has wiltedThe soil erodedNature’s disrupted my departureThis means I can’t goThis means I’ll have to wait a while longerJust the other day he replaced …