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Space confined as if in the mind
the thought of a barn
where the wind turns sideways
to get in and lies down
to get in and lies down
where the day moves over the planks
at the speed of the spin of the earth
animals breathing beneath you
weather wrapping around you
the ingenuity of men
written in the cuts of the adze
and suspended in the quiet air
where the past lingers
for as long as the barn will stand.
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