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Say Sing
by Kerrin McCadden

This is my one life. Say you know.
Say this means many things, say snowy owl,
say three feet of snow, say kestrel. My one
life is here at the table, next to me. Say you know,
say fine night for soup, glad to have you,
how was your drive. Say there is only one ridgeline
worth knowing, one swale between three hills.

Wonder why the mountains are named
Lord’s Hill, Devil’s Hill and Burnt Mountain.
Say we should go there sometimes, when we are
lonely like this, stand in the center, gear shouldered
and wonder where to camp. Say bear claws and
hawk circles, say grass chewed low. Say here,
One Life, settle in with us. Here is the fire.
Say here is a warm stone. Say sing.

 
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Homage
by Andrew Palmer

Homage

A series of conversations about breaking stuff.

"I really don't want to talk about this."

"Fine. Okay," said Kate. This was just last night. Long silence for a phone conversation, maybe ten seconds, maybe even fifteen or twenty. Not twenty. But long. Maybe fifteen.

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