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5 Memory Everything that was—touch football in the street, Peggy McKay in the hay wagon, Miss LaBatt’s geometry, the second floor in Madison, where one daughter slept in a closet. Is any of this true? Nightgowns, glances, griefs existing nowhere but in this sieve of memory. Newspaper files, bank accounts, court records—nothing there. It’s gone, except for these scratchy words—blackbird on a branch, long story caught in his throat. ...

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