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a terrible sanctity
sanitized in salt
and poison on the
tongue — this land
lifts in the
inhabiting wind
burns beneath
necessity —
below the broad arc
of the sun
sweeping the sky
it dies —
rusted ruins of
a century's waste
foretaste of salt's
vanquish in the
sea —
this life that
we waltz within —
inspirited mineral — animate
am i the dirt or
am i the wind?
coyote makes a pass
under raven's
black wing
full moon glides north
as rocks play dead.
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