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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 6, Number 3, September 2012


Elizabeth Kudlacz
Groton, Connecticut, USA

Cape Neddick, Maine

A brisk November morning. Cliffside, a small group of strangers has gathered across from the lighthouse. The woman clutching her thick brown coat walks to the edge, stands above the churning sea. Wind tangles her hair, snatches the ashes from her offering hand. Standing downwind, I pause.

scent of salt
in a room full of white

As last ash is cast, the clutch of loved ones tightens—releases. One by one each turns away. I hear neither car doors close nor engines start, only the incessant crash of waves.

Nor’easter, and light—
house beam pulses:
red, red, red.



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