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Eric Raanan Fischman


Twenty Tiny Colonies


Caked in
flour; her hands
and hair bagged

for questioning.
Twenty
tiny
colonies of

jam fall down her
apron like plinko
chips down
a polish coat rack.

Not tonight, though.
Tonight,
dressed in Morocco
and Grace;

hair, drawn like
a longbow, like
a half-forgotten dream.

Submitted: Wednesday, August 06, 2003

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