August 2013
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snapshot poem 19 august 02013
Ashes fall from a hot, clear sky. Bear Mountain burns, and we taste it. The only smell is forest- on-fire. Another neighborhood is evacuated. Police, hazmat, and federal agents search for explosives. These stories are unrelated. This is a small town. Strangers nod when they pass on the street. Cars stop for pedestrians.… Continue reading

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