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Gratefulness
In the broken place where we live, hope can be found in the cracks
If a dandelion can push herself up from the earth
though a sliver of light in cement and be called a weed
—or a flower by those who see more surely, we too can bloom
in our brokenness where we live and see more
Posted by kind permission of the poet. Photo by Sam Derkach
I want a word that means okay and not okay, more than that: a word…
On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion…
He wants to fill in the pasture’s low spots. I say no, no, no these…
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