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Winnowing

A white-dusted woman looks up from sifting circles of 
Yellow grain, and husks, and leaves. 
In the clicking speech of her people she calls, Ah hello. 
Dear God! Your two faces shine before me. 

A Member of the Tribe

When I was a restless teenager growing up Mormon in a small southern California ward, it seemed that the only topic to which our unruly Sunday school class responded was the fate of the lost…

Tracks in the Field

Hidden in drainage ditches alongside the tracks, men wait for the train. I know the men are there. I’ve seen the damp green nesting places they trample out in the thickest stands of rushes, cattails,…