Barred back from the glare 
                    gone gripped along 
                    the rail run-down 
                    running from or toward 
                    no matter no 
                    mind never 
                    hell for leather 
                    scraped across 
                    night’s increment 
                    torn from the sedge the salvage 
                    shorn at the edge 
                    forlorn fore- 
                    warned they said 
                    hefting waxed 
                    breached waning 
                    whine needling half- 
                    heard then hearing 
                    help winded in 
                    the wind gone 
                    the words’ grip 
                    ground to a halt