Arts

Glory and Her Gourd

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How do I deserve a bumblebee in my squash flower? Honey-bearers—endangered—orchestrate through pheromones and dance. And what of this squash flower? How can I believe Adam came first…

A Prayer

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Empty me unto thee, O Mercy, O Beginning,    Port of Terror, Port of Morning.All my words pour on you, my heart in them,    In…

Winter Weather

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        I used to walk a trail in the dunes near Provincetown with my pockets full    of birdseed. I liked the zip of the chickadees’         scratchy feet…

Slash & Burn

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Fir trees shake their skirts, freetheir perfume of sharp summer musk. So much is certain: the dry rasp of wildfire plumes,the cicadas climbing from…