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Four for Just One

1 What use, what reason, can there be In loving like this, where there is No certain promise of equal return? But expressed, written out like this,…

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Catharsis

The red and yellow wrecker jerks its chrome snout aside as we mount the final rise, hooks a blue sedan in the reedy ditch, pulls it from…

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Acorns

sound like popguns as they pelt our porch, nugget-bullets, chipmunk-fodder, hatted woodland faces crowding the ground unashamed as elf-crowds feasting, flirting with earth and birthing new forests,…

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Appalachian Morning

In Memory of Willmoore Kendall   They live here, these forlorn people—no riches to relinquish; their dawn no different than any other’s on this morning. But what…

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Hedgelaying

Instead of a fence, we laid a hedge: not shrubbery you’d find in magazines, but a breathing barrier of rods and pleachers brought together to keep the…

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Fill me

You can come and fill my songs, my imagination, my poems, like waft of wind in summer, like a dandelion, like a song of a wren, like…

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Salt Stone Sweet

Come listen, listen, listen To this tale I have to tell. Come listen to this tale Of a village with the strangest well. Come every one of…

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