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Gratefulness
A crow carrying a pine cone larger than its body flapped its black wings as it flew among the trees.
Others called out hoarse encouragement fluttering from branch to leafy branch.
The effort seemed enormous but meaningless as I turned back to the blank page before me.
Patrick Flanigan, from Milk and Coffee (Monterey, CA: Pacific Grove Publishing, 2002). Posted by kind permission of the poet.
Beloved, you know who I’m calling to, though I mistake you for the bird’s song,…
This was a day when nothing happened, the children went off to school without a…
You darken as my knife slices blushing at what you become. I save your thick…
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