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DECADES AGO BY SANDRA MARSHBURN

In an almost all-white small town where I grew up, a good friend lived across the street, she, three years older than I. I had heard rumors that my friend was involved with the only black student in our high school but not about...

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SHELTER IN PLACE BY SANDRA MARSHBURN

When the radio announced all clear, I headed to the college campus where I worked, not the first time that the chemical plant next door had leaked substances with forgettable names, a fire reportedly contained, its cloud...

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TWO CEDARS BY SANDRA MARSHBURN

Before it was over, a small crowd of neighbors had gathered, drawn by the sounds of saws and a machine chomping branches and spewing chips into a truck. Aroma of cedar cleaned the air. The machine labored with the thickest logs,...

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COMING APART BY ELLEN ROBERTS YOUNG

In 1959 my future husband, eager teen, visited Glacier National Park, hiked up Curly Bear Mountain. He talked of it often, meant to go back, took me at last in 2009. I walked to St. Mary’s Falls alone, his hiking days over. The...

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WHO WILL INTERPRET? BY ELLEN ROBERTS YOUNG

Undernourished youth, wings on hat and sandals, who cannot stop to eat a proper meal, talking as he runs. He’s Mercury, minister of messages. The astrologer promises much from him, now in the soulful sign of Pisces: mystery and...

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BROTHERS BY ELLEN ROBERTS YOUNG

Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30 Like the smaller child in front of the television, desire pulls, nags, cries “Let’s go, I’m hungry!” Lethargy grouses, kicks his brother, won’t lift a hand...

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AT THE BORDER BY TONY HOWARTH

I’ve seen eyes like these before death-camp children in striped pyjamas behind barbed wire never blinking * migrant children separated from parents crowded into cages shoulder to shoulder panic and chaos behind them frozen eyes...

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SWIMMERS BY TONY HOWARTH

The sound of the ocean pounding California’s black granite coast, a gathering of sea otters surf the waves, shake off the relentless towers of spray, flip and dive, chase each other where crabs and sea urchins hide. In the...

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ODE TO TANDOORI CAULIFLOWER BY ROBIN NEAL

Once white and rooted now torn from the base. Sunbaked then showered cold. Sliced into, onto, on top of. Massaged into brightness, crisped and idolized. Brushed in spice. Red encompassed. Consumed in excess. Now both of us full...

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DRIVE THE ROAD BY BROOKS C. MENDELL

Bobby Rose strapped down the pine logs stacked high between the bolsters of his trailer. The resin smell of freshly cut trees circled the truck as Bobby secured the flat hooks. Before tightening the final straps, he paused for a...

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GHOSTS BY CYNDI CRESSWELL COOK

“Robbers!” my four-year-old daughter whispered frantically. “I can hear them dragging our TV across the floor!” She was standing by my bed at 11pm wearing her kitty pajamas and clutching her blanket. My daughter smelled like...

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