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Thursday, February 11, 2016

Dog Canyon

by Tim Staley

Darkness unrolls over the west
like black nylons, one over the other.
Fire leaps from the stalks
of the desert spoon.

The breeze massages juniper
and pinyon sticks
into a jag of sparks.

Folding fire into itself for hours
teasing out more flames.
Light spasms of space junk
pierce the atmosphere
and steal attention from the blaze.

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