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John Morgan

Fall 1988

Neptune’s Daughter

By John Morgan

Two sons come home on a bus, but she’s unaccounted for, left behind at the shore. I chide the lady driver who should have counted. And then—cartoons of fish debating […]

Fall 1988

Walking Past Midnight

By John Morgan

         For Linda Schandelmeier Dusk in the arctic whistled me out of bed. I felt its feathersbrushing by. Moon pink in the west; a whippoorwill’s call, a thrush. I saw a […]