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Night Storm Like chopped Harleys Coming over the ridge In an endless exploding Rumble of thunder on The ground, the storm Pounded the night with Bone shaking noise and Arc spitting light that Set sirens singing and Men in rubber boots Dragging hoses into
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darkness and fright, In that moment before Morning, earthworms with Teacups and saucers Scooping up every last Drop of water before The robins popped Into the day. Stephen Nesbitt ©
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