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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 2, June 2016


Theresa A. Cancro
Wilmington, Delaware, USA

A Clearing

In third grade, a boy and I often walked to school together. Scars ran up and down his arms and the left side of his face. It had been an apartment fire. Some family members hadn't made it out.

One afternoon, he said he wanted to show me a place in the woods where wild strawberries grew and led me on a well-worn path to a clearing. Spots of sunlight laced through branches, alternating with tiny berries sprinkled over the ground that were dark pink and white like the shiny blotches on his skin. He turned to me, then whispered that he knew she was never coming home.

low sun . . .
a towhee flushes
from leaf litter



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