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J A C K E T   #   E L E V E N   |    A P R I L   2 0 0 0  


Ian McBryde



Mother an empty tenement.

Father the sound rain makes on metal roofs.

Sister a splintered boat washed onto rocks.

Brother the dust in cathedrals.

My wife the light glancing off ice fields.

My children these still and silent rooms I wake to.


J A C K E T  # 11 
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