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Love those wheat and cornfields that you drive past this time of year

A poem about harvest

Lemon-light evenings

Patchworks of buff

Speckled and bordered by green

Fields that were waving

Before they were cropped

Now tied up equispaced on the scene

Infantry units

Strategically placed

Square soldiers steadfast on patrol

Or their cylindrical cousins

More recent recruits

Looking primed and ready to roll

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