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Graeme Bezanson [THERE WERE GRANITE-JAWED WINDOWS, THESE THINGS‌]

There were granite-jawed windows, these things were visible to the west of me: gentle slopes broken by earthworks which throw long shadows at sunset; an overripe clump of azaleas; the footman disclosing an egg-salad sandwich from its greasy packet; the footman sneaking down to the brook for a hortatory pinner; the footman on the patio practicing his crossover dribble. Yesterday an itinerant chorus sang glorious-voiced in the garden. It was like a modern force of nature. Airplanes dropped altitude. Zeppelins erupted in laughter. The footman ran off with our most impractical maid. At night when I’m still I can hear my ancestors arriving. It sounds like a rattle and then hours and hours of hissing.

EDNA - A Journal of The Millay Colony for the Arts  

A journal of art made in residence at The Millay Colony for the Arts. EDNA Issue 5, 2015.

EDNA - A Journal of The Millay Colony for the Arts  

A journal of art made in residence at The Millay Colony for the Arts. EDNA Issue 5, 2015.

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