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Mystery Merges With Miraculous

Mystery Merges With Miraculous

It was eleven degrees outside and still dark. We were drinking coffee. “Did you really write that? A wee Babe’s face? Todd asked after I read him my poem. “I did. You don’t like it?” “Wee?” “What?” “We don’t talk that way,” he said attempting a Scottish accent. “A...
When Death Becomes Light

When Death Becomes Light

It was a silky, milky Scene this past Sunday Beyond the lake bluff. The horizon had been erased, Reminding me of the day That had reminded me of The first of the last seven days of my mother’s life. There had been no divide Between water and Sky, heaven and...

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