Summer 1987 • Vol. IX No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 1987 |

The Name

At the end of her life,when the firelifted her house away,and her left sidevanished in a stroke,and she wokein that white roomwithout apron or shoes,she searched each face,including his,until she found her twice-divorced daughter, the oneshe'd always said wasn'tover Fool's Hill yet,and, taking her handas if they'd all alongbeen close, beganto call the namethe frightened daughternever heard before,not brother or father.

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At the end of her life,when the firelifted her house away,and her left sidevanished in a stroke,and she wokein that white roomwithout apron or shoes,she searched each face,including his,until she […]

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At the end of her life,when the firelifted her house away,and her left sidevanished in a stroke,and she wokein that white roomwithout apron or shoes,she searched each face,including his,until she […]

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