Waiting for the Spirit (day 529)

I grow patient as I roam across the tundra
Waiting for the spirit to knock me over
An instance I know will never occur
Lest I be fruitful in my efforts spoils
Take on the wayward glances
Ye mighty soldier of futures designs

Put down your walking stick
And pull through the open doors
Do not lay down yer tired shoulders
Keep the noble dresser in his tight pants

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