My first sonnet
at Portage Glacier Alaska was always an eternal word to me. empty, cold as an opal ocean’s surface. and dad held the world in his fingertips there. he could point and dim horizons lit...
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at Portage Glacier Alaska was always an eternal word to me. empty, cold as an opal ocean’s surface. and dad held the world in his fingertips there. he could point and dim horizons lit...
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