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Cool winds blow fast here. White, bright, blue and black clouds loud Floating up above. Rakeshottam
Saturday morning we set out for St. James There was a thick fog in the valley at 10 a.m. We barely made it past the climbing lane The radiator in the old Nissan van overheated We halted on the north coast highway
Dear howling winds, you whistle through tiny cracks of our small, whithered home songs of your journey from further out miles. Take me with you as you pass by. Pick up my soul,
Blown away by the sails, Navy sent my man to other lands with his brothers in arms.
Violent twirls; forceful twists; the world is spinning. The wind tugs at our clothing; shoves us; spins us around. It whips our fear in our faces. It hurls the sand into our eyes.
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