When the storm rolls in,
I move quickly
Over jagged rocks and sand.
Across the great wild back
Of the sleeping bear.
I follow tracks and shapes in clouds.
I walk under a canopy-sky
Of rain and insects.
In the ghost tree valley;
Shadows climb in the distance.
There are two ways to travel:
In the darkness,
And in the light.
And I chase patches of sky
On a stormy sleeping bear night.
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