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0002 Sleeping Under Stars (1)
Hot August nights
before my brother left
to serve
I would sleep outside
on the wide balcony
next to my parents’ room,
stretched out
on a lounge chair
like an offering
to the stars, my eyes
seeking out
familiar patterns
of gods, winged horses
and thundering archers-
men with fierce weapons
I still saw as heroes.
poem
by
Lori Boulard
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