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Fragments of Hope

       Mama’s house is gone Fragments remain as part of That once vital family I am one of those fragments My name is Mary I have a story to tell Dirt road, uninsulated house, outhouse, wood stoves- one for heating, the other for cooking, water from a pump nearby. The...

I Learned I Was Not Alone

As I sit here on train to Mineola Station I know one thing for sure: I am confident . Confident of the condition I was born with, the limits I posses, and the boundaries I can break.  Outside the window to my right passes scrawny trees and packed cities. This sight is...