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Enid Shomer

Summer 1996

The Separation

By Enid Shomer

The last thing of yours I touched was the leatherjacket, for the serenity that marks all dead thingsfrom a saint’s reliquary to the ashesof a fire. For years we flowed […]

Summer 1996

The Gene

By Enid Shomer

I abhor this clapping of thunder,the air loud and swirling like a drill routing the tropical green. I hate the verge of damage. And this war, always some war, left […]

Summer 1996

Refreshed Apollo

By Enid Shomer

We march lamely, reliably through the blowzy nightgaining only one tomorrow at a time, no durable good. The beautiful swan froths its feathers and in the high plateaus wildflowers release […]

Summer 1996

Depth of Field

By Enid Shomer

As if they were just coming clear in the developing tray,I’m studying old family photos. I am the infantin her ten-year-old arms, behind us a warposter, the nickel Coke machine. […]