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It’s Late

By Gemma Gorga Poetry

It’s been a while already since the last pair of animals climbed into the ark. An admirable job. The solitary ones have remained on earth, the unpaired, the ones marked with a red felt pen by God. The chill of the first drops disperses them onto the avenues slippery from the port and docks already…

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To the One Who Tames

By Sharon Dolin Poetry

Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé.                 —Antoine de Saint-Exupéry Tame me—you whom I can never see— ——-each word I utter, each prayer I kneel for. Here I am, pacing—now wrest from me ——-a new song to find its way to you. If you…

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My Life as an Open-Air Temple

By Sharon Dolin Poetry

From cramped to roofless ——-I became—I don’t know how— ————–an open-air temple with no pillars. My walls of stone, lichen-covered, where many feet came to pray. ——-The willows shook around me ————–as mice and small insects knelt in moonlight, I could feel the breath of many spirits ——-winging through my chamber: ————–rabbis dropping pocket lint—…

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