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And I? I became a statue of mourning in the moonlit field, oak trees bending over to see what was wrong. I am in flight now, though it’s harder to get lifted into the air without her. My heavy instrument…
J.D. Harms
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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