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On April 8, 2015 by Neil

Like a freight-train bursting from the tracks ͜

in surging, blasting, wrenching, erupting, bull-hoofed-violent awe, ͜

comes the stumbling rush of sol ͜

rivered over pines and love-plundered hills ͜

in stammered vastness ―

 

 

tumbling, striking, flaring into

all the nations of the dawn;

raising Lazarus – crushing the timid – shouting white-horsed enormity . . .

 

 

and I shiver like the grass  . . .

 

and stutter tongues of spirit  . . .

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