Poetry: “Dunes at Dawn” by Mirana Comstock

I keep track of the deepening circles
under my eyes
as if they were redwood rings
showing the number of nights
without sleep […]

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Poetry: “Flood” by Celia Meade

Our house sat at the bottom of a hill,
where it all started, where we began,
the ground fertile, but the structure rotten.
It rocked and eventually fell,
the walls crashing outward toward […]

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