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Poetry

they built this church to hoard a graveyard
a colony of ghosts they call by Hebrew names
the children grow up believing in angels
that are ghosts

all the grandmothers who couldn’t let go
are given a sword and some kind of new eyes

they arrive at judgments they fly around
with a thousand voices

 

 


S. Preston Duncan is a leathercrafter and death doula in Richmond, Virginia. Author of the forthcoming poetry collection Blood Alluvium (Parlyaree), his work has appeared in dozens of journals, including Pank, HAD, and Free State Review.

 

 

 
Photo by Leslie Cross on Unsplash

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