when it’s this quiet
I almost hear the sun rise
not quite, but almost
Gary Hunter
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See AllI walk a flowered path stop at the front door and knock someone’s peering out the peephole a shadow blocks its light but I’m not...
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I’ve really no business writing this except to wonder how divorce by death feels our thirty years together defined by everything shared...
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while Israel plays the cat’s fury with the spit of rockets and paws of tanks Hamas is the chased mouse running through the living rooms...
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