Unearned

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UNEARNED


For those with clean-up hitter power 

of the will to still the hey batter 


batter chatter up there, dispassionate

withdrawal does the trick, or that’s 


the thought. For those like me, 

it takes a Lookout Mountain breeze—


of which I'm no composer but

yet a grateful recipient—


to momentarily rend the mist 

webbed thick between the conifers,


gift me a passing glimpse 

of Rock City, the sun.


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