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Perennial

A poem for gardeners, for springtime lovers, for the hopeful by Andrew Taylor-Troutman.

Praying Easter would happen again

"I’ve never stepped into the mouth of an empty tomb, but I have walked into my grandmother’s one-bedroom apartment three days after she died," writes Lisle Gwynn Garrity.

On Turning Eighty-Nine

I've never ... been this old before, worn a body like this before, known a mind like this before, lived a life like this before, writes J. Barrie Shepherd.

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