| In the Almost-Fall Cottonwoods laced the sphere of the yard with something like black pepper, a little mellower, a little earthier. It had rained hard during the night; backflashes of lightening still lingered. The wind protested from the south, nearly buffeting and pummelling boxy traffic off the rain-slick, darkened asphalt. Children queued up for breakfast and class, accessories to the latest turn. Pam Ehli/2003 |
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| Since 10-1-03 |