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South Out of Santa Fe
Wed, 04/15/2009 - 16:11 — admin
by Bob Howells
It wasn’t the huge-heaven sky of big-fluff shapes
Draped from horizon to forever
And it wasn’t the sudden squall that formed
Like a gathering of ghosts
A great big fury of windswept ice crystals
Blasting my southbound windshield
As if to say, “Git now, you.