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A COMMON TONGUE
It has been said, wisely, that all children speak a common language, regardless of what adults believe they are hearing. The proof of that proposition is simple enough, pause and watch a parent make demands of a child in the presence of other children, see the reluctant child glance at his foreign peers and gain…
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ON MORTALITY
Death was never something we considered, until that certain, ill-defined moment when our immortality suddenly disappeared, and in its place was a reality to be avoided. Even once death became a shadow, always lurking around us, we kept our face toward the sun, so that death might not be seen in the bright light of…
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THAT MOMENT
There is always that moment when I stand stock-still, afraid to move, the poised camera a lead weight on my hands, arms emaciated hammocks dangling from shoulders inviting something that will not come into focus. The Great Blue heron, who is the sole focus of my attention, stares at me, or through or perhaps past…
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TEMPUS FUGIT
She parked her cart across the face of the bin, she fills the only gap. She has a look of determination that says “give me space if you know what’s good for you.” She examines each banana with the care of it gemologist and you imagine that she wears a loop. She pulls bunches apart,…
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WRITING MEMORY
It is well past time I wrote a poem about the great joys of my childhood, for memory should bubble up like lava through the crust of time, they should rain in flashes as so much matter dropping into the atmosphere in their ultimate light show. This isn’t going to happen, of course, whether because…
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NIGHT
In the end, it always comes down to night, regardless of the moon, if any, it’s faint light drowned by the city’s oppressive glow, headlights, streetlights and once, spotlights painting the sky, traceable down to that new place we don’t wish or can’t afford, would never dare to go. Death is omnipresent, his shadow is…
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THE GIFTS
They brought him myrrh on a flaming salver and all he could do was say “This is something I would expect from a butcher or a carpenter, and the camera angles would never work, so bring me napalm or punji stakes that we have proven to work.” They brought him ripe oranges and the sweet…
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ER
They are arranged like so much ill-stacked cordwood, pressed against walls that are indifferent to their presence. They watch the double doors leading to the examining rooms with trepidation, wanting to be next, wanting more not to be here at all, knowing that the options are none or fewer. He isn’t bothered by it all,…
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JUST WATCH
It has been said, wisely, that all children speak a common language, regardless of what adults believe they are hearing. The proof of that proposition is simple enough, pause and watch a parent make demands of a child in the presence of other children, see the reluctant child glance at his foreign peers and gain…
