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Pebble, Dirt, and Sand

I am neither the first person
Nor the last to
Stand on this crest.
This hill of pebble, dirt, and sand
Is ancient beyond measure.
The earth below my feet,
Torn and trampled, has
Felt the west wind’s fury and
Endured the sunshine’s harsh radiation.
The wrath of one desert storm
Has bombarded this same mess of
Twisted brush and branches
A thousand times over;
One is a synonym for many
When times is not counted
In days, but in lifetimes.

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