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K.E. Allen

Summer 2000

Cicadas

By K.E. Allen

The night for once is utterly silent: cicadas have quit their trilling too soon leaving only the brittle surfaces of shell clinging to the bark of snow-bound oaks that line […]

Summer 2000

O’Dowd’s Fields

By K.E. Allen

Through endless fields we walked,   through mocking prairie grass wedded among the bells of goldenrod raining from hedgerows,   where three lame sheep banded against the ledge of clouds, clouds that […]