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Into the Old Barn 

We walk together
Along the Lost Coast

One eye on
Towering waves

Whisked ashore
Beneath dark clouds

Finally dousing our
Endless Fire Season

On Christmas Day.

Avoiding quicksand
We squeeze between

Ancient Redwood siding
Holding what is left of

An abandoned Dairy barn
Littered with work tidings

Scattered aimlessly
Waiting to float

Far away ...

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Kirk Gothier

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