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ISSUE:  Spring 2003
. . . way to put it, a seasonal change,
celebration, duck roasting in wine sauce,
the taste of sweet potatoes still in your mouth
when you step out, the afternoon drifting off,
fog on the pond, a New England day in Georgia,
love disputed and continued with, you think
the spiritual life is—what did you say?—
the experience of hashing it out with reality,
that’s good, but a somberness in you
nonetheless, a sadness, her soft hand,
the way she knelt with you
to look into her aunt’s chest of drawers
at the glass figurines, hundreds of them
the old woman in another room dying now.


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