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Found Poetry 611

4/26/21

I am a locomotive, grazing invincible
I, an earthquake, shake the rocks below
what turbulence? I ask as I pull
my iron body cleaves the air
in a silent future, I will sleep, rusting
the only whistle the wind my bones share

This poem was created from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Click here to get Leaves of Grass.

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