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Lincoln, Nebraska Here gray sky and birch trees an aerie's view where I work to find that safe place safe from silence from cancer, from isolation, from the blue flame under the pot that signals too little oxygen the breath lost, the skin blue now and death inWyuka, underground border at O street, called Zero in another place less pristine, another poem. Meanwhile spring in the crocus, yellow triangle at the edge of Love Library as we turn to enter for the board meeting. 87 ...

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