Vox clamantis in deserto
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Gerald FitzGerald: My terrific brother’s adventurous nuptials
RWhitcomb-editor
RWhitcomb-editor
Season of tin
“I can taste the tin of the sky —- the real tin thing.
Winter dawn is the color of metal,
The trees stiffen into place like burnt nerves.’’
— From “Waking in Winter,’’ by Massachusetts native Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)
View of Winthrop, Mass., where Plath lived as a child.