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Let Me Tell You About My Week and a Blue Heron 

So I get back from going there,
running the fire trails,

and the creditors are after me
again, and I get some nasty e-mail

from a supervisor. All I want
is to send this message—

a canoe in lily pads, dusk,
the stroke of an oar

and darkness descending.

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Steve Clark.


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