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ethereal mustard southwest of Yamhill
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we feel so alone
but generations
have crouched beneath the sound
of wind
moan-seeking among
withering branches
have started as shrill
fledged murres
shriek ‘me!’
above the roar of incessant
wave upon wave
have heard sobs
in the rain
before knowing
they
were weeping
Author of the Nandria Series, MaryJane is a retired family practice physician who grew up in the Midwest but now lives in the Pacific Northwest.