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Heights

A struggle ensued, which now has passed.
There is sweat.
Feet and rock and sweat.
Now wind and chill.

A panorama of snow splotched mountains.
Forever peaks. Endless ecstasy blow brisk winds.
There is sweat, once sticky and hot, now slimy cold clams.

This height is thunder.
Electric cliffs of life are
Grandfathers' faces

These rocks are hunger.
Barren black and white rocky ridges
Eat passing feet

Here is art.
Ruffled blankets of earth
After peaceful sex

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