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Migration Ponies snorting over frozen steppes Vandals and Celts following after blue painted men to unknown doom ever westward Sails fallen slack in windless seas and other days wild ocean roiling becoming a tumult of water mountains and merciless winds Red men and trees melting before axes and muskets creaking wagons hauling ever toward the sinking sun Fleeing from and dragging on toward a vanished Paradise and on to another far away in time and place beyond the ever retreating sun |
Additional Notes:
I wonder if excessive use of gerund endings is wise or not?
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