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St. John in the Desert When he went into the desert Saint John brought only his staff and his hunger to its hallucination of plains and valleys. As the days lost their markings, the air quivered with his thoughts, the world opened its scars, voices pierced his dreams. Yet he stayed where there was no path, no green leaf, only the wind of his torment, only his staff. |
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Issue #29, October, 2002 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.