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And he took the fire in his hands and the knife–Genesis 22:6

The beasts walk single file, saying hallelujah, eating bones. The woodsmen with their axes chop in union, felling trees as if their first children. I see you on the other cliff. There is a chasm between us. We could sort through trees for communication towers and text. Unless the world would flood again, level to the cliffs, and I would cut another tree and make a canoe— or you could chop a tree and fell it for a bridge. The ruffians overrun the corridors. The wolves are near. I see their red hats through the trees. The beasts roast marshmallows when fires are lit. I hold my broken fire-hose. The woodsmen brush the vermin from their coats. They pass out tickets to the ball. It will begin with a bow scraping across a few strings. We can dance when the water gauge is full— with the sound of what almost could be music.

Diane Glancy

Diane Glancy is professor emerita at Macalester College.  Currently she teaches in the low-residency MFA program at Carlow University. She also will teach a course in Experimental Prose and Poetry at the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary in 2021. Her latest book, "Island of the Innocent: A Consideration of the Book of Job" was published in 2020. Forthcoming in 2021 is "A Line of Driftwood, the Story of Ada Blackjack." "Home Is the Road, Wandering the Land, Shaping the Spirit" will be published in 2022.  Her other books and award are on her website, www.dianeglancy.com.

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