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Poem: Letting Go 

The birch, the elm, the aging spruce

Cannot restrain the restless roots

Of saplings drawn to the silent sound

Of brother's heading skyward bound

Youthful trees spreading their wings

Dropping away their childish things

Until what was there is no more

Like ascending marks on a young lads door

  • A poem by Michael Glassman.

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Tom Beckham's Slice

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