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Puff of Life
Holding it, I think of the hands that molded its perfect shape, Hardened tired hands, skilled. The eyes of the maker intent on their task, choosing the leaves with care, studying their grain, their...
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On Sunday mornings, we find ourselves at the laundry mat with the faithful, trying to get things clean. It occurs to me that they are the best and the worst of us all at once: doing the best we can,...
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