Jerra D. James
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Through Dark And Light And Changing Mists
I'm rising up from beaten down
Like rib-backed ridges scorched with ice.
I'm railing up at Nature's poundings--
Her constant breaking of rock-hard bones--
Her endless thrashing of earthy faces.
I'm rising up from fire-blood floors
As monumental as the mountains...
Shrouded in the midnight smoke.