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49 • rObErTA, rEbirTH You’re all this campus can talk about Donny says, our hands a fallen metronome. I speak of spirituals, “Come Ye Disconsolate,” what my mother sings when her heart is light. If your Missouri is anything like my Carolinas, you have your own Black Mountains. Corner or forest, they know strife, stand strong above the plain. We roll out of those hills with a song on our tongues, 50 • share music of cascading rock, fir needles on the wind— the difference between whine & wail. ...

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