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Woody Guthrie Memorial Highway
sign just beyond the intersection of Faulkner and the railroad track has me singing so long, thinking dust bowl. It's dry. A cache of fuel the size of Rhode Island and wind enough to drive it to the end of vision. No wonder the cows don't move. They've seen nothing like it their whole lives and know there's nowhere to go. Just stand in wind, whole offering. © Steven Schroeder
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