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Board Administrator Username: mjm
Post Number: 3581 Registered: 11-1998
| Posted on Thursday, July 14, 2005 - 8:38 pm: |
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Honorable Mention Odeimin Kathy Paupore These winter berries hold no hint of sun, hothouse tasteless, deprived of the yellow dust of pine tree pollen, the purple spice of lupines, the hot snow of cotton grass covering bogs. There is no rain sizzle on the tin roof or puddled swallowtails. Outside the window no hummingbird idles in fuchsia blooms. You can't hunt turtle eggs. The black bear sleeps, gestates, dreams of heat. The child eats pale fruit, a stranger to tart berries plucked with small red-stained fingers from green leaves tangled in vines and runners. Picked from the grassy fields of June, sun-warmed wild strawberries burst, blush ripe on the tongue. (the Ojibwa word for June is odeimin, meaning strawberry)
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