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this is the highest ground for miles and miles, I stepped over the gray limestone road that crossed it, and looked down the north and south directions of the rails, the ties are weathered and dry, the rails still have a polish, but I saw a only mists rising from the fields, and the abandoned cars along the way. I remembered walking as a child down railroad tracks, and imagined old steam engines pulling the war frieght into town to be delivered to the Army Base and the Airfield, young G.I.s staring out of the dusty windows of old pullmans, watching as the trees and fields became blended into a plush soft carpet. It is almost hypnotic, and I wiggled a spike out of the tie below me and smelled the oil on it, but then I dropped it, as if I commited a crime, and stepped away, it must remain here, until the green that spreads from horizen to horizen claims it..
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