Success of Small Town Americans (A Subconscious Desire for Escape) // Carolyn Kiely “You aren’t truly a local, until there are three lifetimes of your blood alongside the soil.” I hover at burials for third, fifth, seventh generation of distant peoples, trailing hearses and precessions two streets over to a growing field. A seed planted among this crop has a chance, sand grain small, to flourish for the new year’s harvest. Roots shot beyond the borders often return in time to plant seeds for the new season.
Sweet Dreams // Alexandra Fryman
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Dandelions are not for planting; they escape to the skies, find a home on satellites, spin around us. Gaze upon their glory. Envy the pearly stars born of your sandy silt. Convinced of abandonment. Convinced still not to uproot from the greatest place on earth, while dreaming of flying. Sending prayers for blood on distant soil.
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