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My father was a baritone:
by Katy Brown

he waltzed me to sleep
when I was a few weeks old,

sang me to sleep
when I was in grade school.

At night, beside a mountain fire,
he told stories about constellations
beyond the rising sparks.

He named the wildflowers
and the twelve winds.

Life was a melody—
my father was a baritone.

(, June 14, 2012)


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