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Fritz Ward

Letter to Youngstown

30 March 2009
Vol. 9, No. 1

In between murders,

the night sighs with rain. I keep thinking,

when I should be weeping. A plastic bag tangled

in the low shrubs. A grocery cart alone

in the parking lot. Close and closer—

Love Letter with Tsunami Diorama

After she left, I found the Collins glass of table wine on the windowsill. It counterweighed the nightbird's absence. After she left the second time, I lit a candle in our churchyard…

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