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Herbert Scott

Summer/Fall 1997

November

By Herbert Scott

It is raining today, the slick whale backs of sidewalks surfacing along the block. Look how the earth throws them up, buckled, breaking. The fallen leaves, raked into humps, flatten, […]

Summer/Fall 1997

Late Fall, Rain

By Herbert Scott

The rain is picking its switches, beating the chrysanthemums for their own good. The eye can see only in muted lines, disappearances. Where is the baby we threw out with […]