More damn Poetry: I Walked Old Caz

Old Caz broken pavement swells and pounds me,
And I know nothing now that I know you.
My face goes blank, my eyes go through closed gates,
And the mixed terrain can go on, the mixed terrain can stray
The mixed terrain can make us stealthy and can take away,
So I hold another ensure (now that I hold you)
There’s no place to use our money, the shops are closed

Oh! it is an info controle
Question of where we live, question of many answers,
We live surrounding the low wide branches of the oldest fire road,
On the dune or in the bay,
Where we will climb for so long, so slow,

The careful randonneur will relax,
Walk around Austin Creek rather than ride
And we will only notice the play of the fog for a moment,
Then let it roll on, the way the hill rolls on
Through open gates and under the closed
In a generous way, I give long walks to the steep slopes,
In a generous way, I repeat myself,
In a generous way, I give closed eyes to the nap,
In a generous way, I give peace to the long slow distance
So we do not need to fear the dark.

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