Dee Evetts
Thunder
My woodshaving roll
Along the veranda
After Christmas
A flock of sparrows
In the unsold trees
Custody battle
A bodyguard lifts the child
To see the snow
His fury
Pulled up short
By the payphone cord
Damp morning
Cash for a journey
Warm from the machine
Deep in the mountains
The shaving mirror
Shows me the mountains
The river
Going over
The afternoon
Going on
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