Here

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HERE 


Sometimes the air rings right,

a tight harmony trueing itself 


into our skin. Sometimes, even here 

in the Now, we taste Then. 


Yes, even here in Georgia there’s more 

than humidity making it thick,


a pulse we stick into our pipes 

and puff on porches as we sit a spell


and spill the secret ingredient

of our home-grown hope


for a presence that won't turn

bitter in our mouths, vanishing 


with a hiss and no more than a faint 

whisper of its cherry amaretto.  

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