Dance Teacher Maida Withers

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Maida Withers on Training

As the funeral procession passed the red brick home on the way to the Salem Cemetery, the child, standing and watching from the porch,...

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Three Poems from Gillian Thomas

loose harvest In another life, I was edible flowers. I wore a fitted baby tee that said tubular. It came to define me. Fingerling sounds dirty—name of a...

Two Poems by CL Bledsoe

Eulogyafter a song by Tool If I can’t cry for you, how can I cryfor myself? Someday, they’ll find you,lightning burned tongue, wings long pawned,liver...

Two Poems by Jessica Genia Simon

Preserves I have an urge to preservetoday, boil the remaining fruitsto their sticky sugars, remove the pits and seeds, smash fleshadd pectin and lemon juice, pourand...
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