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Poem: “When You Pursue Me, World”
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Gazapillo
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Editors’ Picks: God Loves the Autistic Mind
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Editors’ Picks: Damnation Spring
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Editors’ Picks: Life between the Tides
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The Faces of Our Sons
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Remembering Tom Cornell
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Letters from Readers
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Monica of Thagaste, Mother of Augustine
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Covering the Cover: Generations
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A Legacy of Survival
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Daughter of Forgottonia
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Giving Your Children Your Words
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Book Tour: On Being a Good Ancestor
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Ten Theses on Intergenerational Stewardship
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Inheriting Mental Illness
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Yearning for Roots
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Fear of a Human Planet
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Reviving the Village
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Is There a Right to Have Children?
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The Stranger in My House
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The Sins of the Fathers
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My Father Left Me Paperclip
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Decoding the Bible’s Begats
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The Name of My Forty-Sixth-Great-Grandfather
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Somewhere in Chessington
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Singing the Law
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Desiring Silence
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Uncle Albert
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Soldier of Peace
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Two Crônicas
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Poem: “The Revenant”
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I love when nature recreates the urban.
I love this garden on a fire escape:
water in what had been a fifth of bourbon
steeps lilies; and a cooler, left agape,
holds, over dirt and worms, a swatch of lawn,
a pinwheel and a decorative rock.
Cherry tomato plants are growing on
props sticking from a soil-stuffed cinderblock.
There are some slugs; there is clematis scaling
the brickwork and the air-conditioner.
Plump pigeons, always roosting on the railing,
come for her breadcrumbs. They are tame for her,
the Circe of Gramercy Park, the girl
for whom nibs open and all tendrils curl.
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