Featured Poet Audrey Molloy

All the Important ThingsCurracloe Beach, July 2016

Only last week we walked here, raincoats  throat-zipped, scarfs doubled, a curious seal our sole company.  The sand, a shade between cement  and cardboard, released fine powder,  whipped ankle skin. Two horses thundered past; You swam here? he said, and made me  wonder if time had distorted it all,  if the flipbooks were real— Did I really, age nine and nut-brown,  fossick for pretty shells,  eat hard-boiled eggs  and scallions, ...

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