Ballast and Line

Where did it go, did last year’s wind blow,
How often did the words get lost not to stay,
To crawl last on a dust filled horizon,
Still much waits out there, just have to run,
Perhaps walk from between the old whistler’s way,
In the turns a tune to her lines ride the rattler,
Through the snake river gorges, ballast & Line.

Write away...

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