Poetry from the Writer of Light for Tuesday, January 23, 2007

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Tuesday, January 23, 2007

ROAD SALT

ROAD SALT They salt the roads here each winter. Though they say that it’s to melt the ice, I have to wonder what flavor they wish to enhance, for what future banquet the meat is being preserved. Perhaps the great grinding machine that crawls along behind orange barrels, feasting on battered,... Sign in to see full entry.

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