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By John Poitier Jr. I rested my secrets upon the oaks’ Lips, scratched by the unforgiving skin, Worn ragged by the rain and winds- Tore...

By John Poitier Jr. And when the golden grains found my breath,  They stole an ounce of hidden rest, Until I slept, and slept away,  My...

By John Poitier Jr. And suddenly, a windswept flutter of cherry blossoms— a blushing tornado— engulfed my person, and a world of mourning...