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| Little Sandy Run, Upper Turkeyfoot |
Muffled laureled slope a small meandered stream exposed
like a vein in clotted snow fell from saplings bent
i passed as if a spun molecular a wandered thaw
fired inside me microwaved the way
opened by defeated swallowed fricatives
interned heat again soon afterward
returned to civilized lacerated ice
i listened to it hiss.
—Some people, it seems, talk too much.
