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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 3, September 2016

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Doris Lynch
Bloomington, Indiana, USA


Between Worlds

Arriving home at three a.m. after a night flight from the Rocky Mountain West, our house looks calm and sheltered under the century-old maple. It could be anyone’s house. A place we’ve visited surely, where we enjoyed good meals and know the path to the sunroom and the redwood deck. Everything feels off kilter: my lungs still adjusted to Yellowstone’s Avalanche Peak, my chest still hugging my siblings good-bye, my legs striding across the Southwest wing at Denver International—hurrying to make a departing connection.

Whose home stands here? Whose rain-streaked grass? And why does that rabbit stand and stare, barely springing away when we pass with our camping gear?

trying
both sides of the bed
tree frog’s trill

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