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i am ghost elk, broken-quill, heavy-brow, the waker. i creep like the light of dawn over eastern ridge with quiver laden, hear their hooves and hollow ribs.

the slaughtered elk army followed me through generations migratory, hear their antlers in the wind.

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from Gather Bones, released November 10, 2015

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historian himself California

i came to stack carcasses and branch out the antlers.

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