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Cumberland We walked dusty earth in Cumberland traced cement in shale and sand. "Kitchen here, bedroom there," he said, all four kids in one bed." He spoke remembrance, a town of ghosts, boardwalks and hitching posts. A dirt devil danced as a fairy dug a dimple in wind-toned prairie. "Saturday a bath and clean underwear sulfur and molasses the usual fare." Lone Antelope sauntered or'e the plain proud, ponged, potent, his domain. Wagon ruts lost beneath our feet eerie essence whelms the street. Shadows of Cumberland alive in his senses memory's path etched in wilderness. O're the llano with eidolons we trod You bequeathed me this man, oh God My father |
Additional Notes:
For those who have never seen a dirt devil it is like a mini tornado.
It twists itself very fast and disappears....its about knee high.
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