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Main Street Nursery

They quiver with the motion of her hand and she calls them pretty. No one comes here without joy. Fiber filagree adds color miracles. Needy, pretty, drizzled. Shivering. as she moves them. The women tote them, arranging and mixing them in the sun. Life is in whispers, lighter than gauze, the shuffle of breath, the brush of tooth on lip.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Shattered Sighs