Poem: My Chocolate

The warmth of his hands that wrap mine in the winters of Valentine love, The tall body that pulls my eyes to recognize him from behind and far

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They Build Ice Palaces There!

When I was eight years old and living in Pennsylvania, my father took a new job in Minnesota at the Saint Paul Foundry. He and my mother had

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Linwood

The railroad caboose was our warming house. Pete didn’t open it until ten, but that didn’t stop us. With our blades and sticks over our

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