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Poem	INTO the blue river hills The red sun runners go And the long sand changes And to-day is a goner And to-day is not worth haggling over. Here in Omaha The gloaming is bitter As in Chicago Or Kenosha. The long sand changes. To-day is a goner. Time knocks in another brass nail. Another yellow plunger shoots the dark. Constellations Wheeling over Omaha As in Chicago Or Kenosha. The long sand is gone and all the talk is stars. They circle in a dome over Nebraska.
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