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(When I Heard the Song of the Pearly Everlasting)

Nicole Mauro

Back to Alaska, to the trees, where thanks to cap and trade
the Rs no longer outnumber the Ds. It was the haters. Who taught
me to deadfall, to trap animal without all the malfeasance.
That Pearly Everlastings in Indian gravel. That Nature, like us,
is sometimes caught between gradual evolve and sudden timbering.

It was a pleasant day to die, so I did—only in reverse order of
sequence. Because there is a God. Because the winds go round
and round in bands. Because, in short, tea. Because, out the
deadfall, I, Sarah, would triumph to become the Sarah of the
dry crushed leaves.

Nicole Mauro

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