Arts

A Prayer

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Empty me unto thee, O Mercy, O Beginning,    Port of Terror, Port of Morning.All my words pour on you, my heart in them,    In…

Winter Weather

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        I used to walk a trail in the dunes near Provincetown with my pockets full    of birdseed. I liked the zip of the chickadees’         scratchy feet…

Slash & Burn

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Fir trees shake their skirts, freetheir perfume of sharp summer musk. So much is certain: the dry rasp of wildfire plumes,the cicadas climbing from…

The Sheds

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My antlers are not rightthey are twisted they are not rightthey are growing too fastsoon they will twist and twist together and grow straight…