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Lessons of a Gentle Childhood

By Jeff Gundy Poetry

Under this skylight many lost things are visible. I see the mighty black and yellow spiders in the iris beds by the old garage and feel not a shred of fear. I could husk two dozen sticky ears of sweet corn and pick two quarts of strawberries on my achy knees without whining once. I…

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Pray That the Creek Don’t Dry Up

By Charles Wright Poetry

It’s funny how light sifts down, out of itself, ______________________________________funny How thin, erasable darkness seeps up and expands, Gauzing the underworld, ______________________everything suddenly stopped, No wind, no movement, no words, The wheel stilled, the crack to the radiant world closing in on itself. One way of putting it. ____________________Another would be it’s twilight time, Last…

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