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by Frederick Van Kirk
copyright 03-16-2006

Age Rating: 7 +


The shadows ran to hide
'Mid- swirling clouds.
Time itself
Seemed to pause in that second of change.
Darkness pulled back like a rug from the monolith.
Hard orange upon the rock, Orange ocher drips.
The behemoth seemed bleeding;
Dripping Orange red blood.
A fog had rested
In stony dark crotch,
Now wisping tendrils gone
With morning breeze.
Then everything held still
Nothing moved, frozen.
At last, thunder!
Yellow thunder comes.
Everything breathes again.
The Sun gives them breath.
Darkness shoulders its way past
Ayers Rock, and is gone.

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