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B i l l   R e c t o r

grief

is human.

Eventually it must sleep,

as small as a shadow at noon.

 

Then it wakes up

like that sinkhole in Florida

that swallowed the bedroom

 

where a man was sleeping.

 

Not the whole house, just the bedroom.

 

 

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Issue 78

Variations on Absence

edited by Laura M. Kaminski

 

Contents

Contributors

 

 

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