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107 red dirt road Barbara Lovenheim On Red Dirt Road where it crosses Upper Terra, I stepped out of my fragile self and buried my sins in the yielding earth, fingers flecked with bits of soil: dust to dust. I counted out stones for a miniature cairn marking time and space watching as a beetle gingerly made its way through the burial ground. Sitting on my haunches, feet flat to the ground, I wondered if spirits could rise from the dead to haunt the heart of the now alive. ...

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