Friday, May 9, 2014

A Family History Comments

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At dusk the girl who will become my mom
must trudge through the snow, her legs
cold under skirts, a bandanna tight on her braids.
In the henhouse, a klook pecks her chapped hand
...
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Julia Kasdorf
COMMENTS
Colleen Courtney 09 May 2014

Such great imagery your poems invoke! Nicely done!

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