Christopher Robinson

  • Christopher-Robinson

The Sunday Poem: Christopher Robinson

By |12.03.11|

 

 

 

 
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They salvaged only what was vital, leaving
behind their most precious belongings,
including Aunt Beale’s watercolors,
which were lost, and the thousand
paper cranes Dad had folded
to win Mom over, placing them
on her usual routes, at the post office,
in the library bathroom, […]

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