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Fly Fishing
by Michael Steffen So much leaping and letting go,flicking your wrist to a shadowyou thread line through, lacingsurface to writhing depth,summoning tension. Between rocks,cutthroat and rainbow shelter.Entice the unseenwith a four-count rhythm,slice the air with a gentle arcand let your line lay downacross the back of another world.Retrieve. Repeat. You are searchingfor something shimmering, deepand…
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Imitation Tiffany
by Don Thompson (Father X) The old priest must have diedsoon after that Sunday,his last crack at the Eucharist.What was his name?Forgotten…But I still hear his voice,already faint and far away,sounding like he had cellophane in his lungs.We followed along in our prayer booksas he got lost now and then.The stained glass Jesus behind himhad…