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Lancaster
In Memory of Joseph V. Russo
by: Jill M. Kenny
Just as the silk
was turning brown
and starting to hang heavy
all soaked with sap,
as the ribbed green husks
were beginning to bulge
from the swell of ears
swaddled within,
I discovered my death.
Ripe kernel in my neck.
That sunset,
I sent my wife to stroll alone
through August fields
so I could lay down
and embrace harvest.
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