Wildfire
Sip This
When it stinks, stay
Geronimo’s hair
Oranges
Poetry Poem
Bronzeville by Night (1949)
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The Snohomish Solve
The sky is falling, again.
Alone I climb a wind ladder
efforts to mend the coming tears.
Like holding water in tremble hands.
When all seems lost
The world arrives just in time with
poles to push back the sagging skies.
Propped up finally with our three tries.
We all yell together and lift
YA HOH!
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