Poetry
Return Flight
The sky’s so thick with graynot even the faintest shape of cloud shows through.Somewhere behind, the planes drag their wings alonga current of air. The
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The sky’s so thick with graynot even the faintest shape of cloud shows through.Somewhere behind, the planes drag their wings alonga current of air. The
SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2013: POETRY by Marci Rae Johnson —for Thom Caraway When you came up out of your office into the customary light you heard it.
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