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A Hundred Gourds 3:3 June 2014

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page 6    

under the cries
of migrating cranes
the mountain
lifts a bleak face
into autumn mist

space Julie Cain - USA
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  always hated
my big paw hands
until I saw
my father’s hands
folded in the coffin

space Carole Johnston - USA
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    not knowing
which way to turn, nor
how to forgive …
this sunlight always
finds a way through

space Kirsten Cliff - New Zealand
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so lucid
but yet in darkness
the land
transforming thoughts
into calligraphy

space Helga Stania - Switzerland
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  still-bare trees
engraving the dusk
with bird song …
a long dead father
I'm just getting to know

space Claire Everett - UK
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    emptying his bureau
I watch my mother
caress his wallet –
the curve of his body
still alive to her touch

space Sally Biggar - USA
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