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An American Sunrise
The book got started because we were preparing to leave to go back to tulsa. And i was looking out into the trees there one morning, and the ah, my spirit says, what did you learn here? That's how the book came that you started writing these poems. O k, break my heart. There are always flowers, love cries or blood. Some one is always leaving by exile, death or heartbreak. It's a timekeeper, music maker or back street truth teller. You cannot force poetry with a ruler or jail it at a desk. Mystery is blind, but wills you to untie the cloth. In eternity, police with their guns cannot enter here