~~~~
~.. ..~
†. .†
#&*~.,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,, † † ,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,.~*
###&&*†~., †. .† ,.~†*&##
#&&&&*†~., ~.. ..~ ,.~†*&&&
####&&*~., ~~~~ ,.~*&###
&&&*~,,,,, ,,,,,~*&&&
###&&*†~., The River That'S Our River Makes A ,.~†*&##
###&&*†~., Large Bend Like A Scooping Hand And A ,.~†*&##
#&&**†~.,, Decent Days Travel North From That ,,.~†**&
###&&*†~., Stands Our House In The Middle Of A ,.~†*&##
##&†††.,,, Forgotten Apple Orchard. Our House Is ,,,.†††#
##&&†~,,,, Built Of Dark Clay And Abandoned By A ,,,,~†&#
###&&*†~., Stranger. The Window Has No Glass But ,.~†*&##
###&&*†~., Instead Steel Bars To Keep The Animals ,.~†*&##
&&*~..,,,, Out. ,,,,..~*&&
&&*†~~~,,, ,,,~~~†*&&
#&*~..,,,, Around The House Is A Thick, Thick ,,,,..~*
#&&&††~,,, Brush Of Ferns And Bushes. There Live ,,,~††&&
&&†~.,,,,, The Animals That We Fight To Keep Away, ,,,,,.~†&&
##&&&*†~., For They Speak To Us To Join Them In ,.~†*&&#
###&&*†~., The Luscious Caves Below Ground. They ,.~†*&##
#&&***†~., Mean No Harm But It Is Not In Our Best ,.~†***&
#&&&&*†~., Interest To Do So. There Is Important ,.~†*&&&
###&&*†~., Work That Needs To Be Done, And It Cant ,.~†*&##
#&&&&*†~., Be Done By Animals. (Father Says This.) ,.~†*&&&
###&&*†~., ,.~†*&##
####&&*†., Every Morning Our Father Clears The ,.†*&###
###&&*†~., Ferns And Uproots The Bushes Only For ,.~†*&##
&&*~...,,, Them To Grow Back Each Night. Their ,,,...~*&&
#&&&†††~., Leaves Are Teal, White And Yellow, Some ,.~†††&&
&&†.,,,,,, Even The Color Of Wine. They Have Lilac ,,,,,,.†&&
###&&*†~., Flowers And In The Morning They Are Wet ,.~†*&##
###&&*†~., With Dew. ,.~†*&##
###&&*†~., ,.~†*&##
###&&*†~., Father Is Away During The Day Doing ,.~†*&##
#&&**†~,,, Important Things Elsewhere. He Is Weary ,,,~†**&
&**~..,,,, When He Returns Home, Each Day More So ,,,,..~**&
####&*†~., Than The Next. We Learn To Cook For Him ,.~†*###
###&&*†~., So That He Does Not Have To. We Tend To ,.~†*&##
###&&*†~., His Clothes. ,.~†*&##
&&&†.,,,,, ,,,,,.†&&&
#&&**~,,,, Suddenly The Dense Bushwork Is Mirrored ,,,,~**&
#&&*~~,,,, Inside. Stems And Leaves Appear Close ,,,,~~*&
#&&&†...,, To The Walls And Far From The Light. We ,,...†&&
#&***†..., Are Glad, For The Flowers Are Beautiful ,...†***
###&&*†~., And Smell Good, And There Is Little ,.~†*&##
&*****†~., Decoration In Our House. But When ,.~†*****&
##&†~~,,,, Father Comes Home He Is Angry And Cuts ,,,,~~†#
###&&*†~., Them All Down In A Frenzy. We Are ,.~†*&##
&&*~,,,,,, Scared Of Him Then. ,,,,,,~*&&
###&&*†~., ,.~†*&##
##&&*†.,,, We Are Then Tasked With Removing Any ,,,.†*&#
##&&*~.,,, Indoor Plant We See. But They Are So ,,,.~*&#
&&&**††~., Beautiful! We Wait Just Until Father ,.~††**&&&
###&&*†~., Comes Home And Until Then We Enjoy ,.~†*&##
&&*††..,,, Them. Sometimes An Animal Will Sneak In ,,,..††*&&
#&&&&*†~., But We Always Shoo Them Out. With Fresh ,.~†*&&&
&&††~,,,,, Cut Flowers Thrown Right Outside The ,,,,,~††&&
#&*~.,,,,, House He Suspects And Resents Our ,,,,,.~*
#&&*~,,,,, Inaction. But He Doesn'T Have The ,,,,,~*&
##&&*††~., Energy To Scold Us. He Weakens Quickly. ,.~††*&#
#&*~.,,,,, It Is Not Long Before He Is Still Tired ,,,,,.~*
&&&&*†~~., Even In The Morning And Must ,.~~†*&&&&
###&&*†~., Reluctantly Leave The Outdoor Weed ,.~†*&##
##&†~~,,,, Cutting To Us As Well, Untrusting That ,,,,~~†#
#&**††~~., We Will Carry It Out. ,.~~††**
#&&&**†~., ,.~†**&&
###&&*†~., Now He Leaves As Soon As He'S Awake And ,.~†*&##
#&&†~.,,,, Falls Asleep As Soon As He Returns. We ,,,,.~†&
&&&&**†~., Are Left To Care For Us And The House ,.~†**&&&&
####&&*†~, And The Orchard. But It Is Hard And We ,~†*&###
###&&*†~., Are Distracted. We Are Not As ,.~†*&##
##&&&*†~., Persistent As Father And Quickly Fall ,.~†*&&#
&&††.,,,,, Behind In Our Duties. ,,,,,.††&&
####&&†~., ,.~†&###
&&&**~.,,, ,,,.~**&&&
##&&&*†~., ,.~†*&&#
##&*~.,,,, ,,,,.~*#
###&&*†~., ,.~†*&##