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the Passing of Storms

the hourglass got bent … when no one else was looking
time stole the drink away … with scratches at the chest
snow melt made a storm on the mountain
and half of us drove sketchily … since the road was barely drawn
cars got spun the other way … with chains around their ankles
and a person died … with a book in their hands
and a helicopter never made it through



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Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.