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For Children in Difficult Times

The old woman who lived in the bottom apartment called me. Her name was Basuma.  Freckles covered her hands and arms and made her look like a ripe banana.   She pointed to a

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Hiking, a Million Covid Dead

Horseshoe prints baked into mudin two directions, one hoof forward,another backward, wonderingif birds, plants, trees, can feel my rhythmstepping along the trail,a sense of relief as though I am morecareful

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Rogue on the Ninth Floor

I stare at the emergency button in the elevator, red and three times as large as the others, one other person collapsed against the back wall should you wish to call it

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