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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume XI, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..


..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II
   Volume X, Issue I
   Volume X, Issue II

 
Poetry


from A Concoction of Glass Bees
Lynn Strongin

 

But day has spiked
How can
I be calm as water
I must I can turn each page of stone.
Penelope's calm comes to me when a whisper of wind lifts the lightest blanket mother could find in Iceland.

 

 

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