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Gary W Weasel Jr
Poems
Dec 2012
Whirling
Whirling...
Whirling...
A hear the whirling of the wheel
Air escaping and entering cavities
In the whirling wheel.
Gold becomes goal
And the fingertip needle
Puts me to sleep
At the whirling of the wheel.
Written March 1, 2004 @ 11:06 AM CST
Written by
Gary W Weasel Jr
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