
On the hardscrabble desert under the creosote
I disturbed your rest.
Fourteen bounds, extend, contract, then stop. As if to say,
“Brother come join me, we shall outrun the wind.”

On the hardscrabble desert under the creosote
I disturbed your rest.
Fourteen bounds, extend, contract, then stop. As if to say,
“Brother come join me, we shall outrun the wind.”
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© 2009 JG Wyant Fine Art and Design, LLC — — Cutline by Chris Pearson