Fast and ever,
speedy the bright
till soil weals and field’s light
a beckon, a call, never

about all patterns, ne’er
near the edge of a cactus sit
men with teeth and trousers
near cat’s gesture with pale flowers
the men gaze, a counterfeit
form and function, the sun blooms

a beckon, a call never
till soil weals and field’s light
speedy the bright,
fast and ever

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