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Geese slalom
across an iron dawn
sliding through
the black furrows
of invisible stars.
A magnetic pulse
pinions
the sky to their compass
they draw
a seismic arrow
cracking thin ice
into a flotsam of flames.
This dormant day
may feel a rousing
of fiery seeds.
An upheaval blooms;
a melt erupts
on the rim of tomorrow.
(C) Eric Ashford July 08
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Dayton
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