They’ve erected a huge yellow crane where the Winn-Dixie used to be where nothing once was everything the Big Hunting Grounds frogs and swamps fraud and scoundrels developed When I was twelve I developed a habit of going into the woods down to the Looking Glass River Wabenasebee I’d sit on the tree roots that hung like a mantle over the brown water and wait for proof that something was amiss, that I didn’t belong, but that little river would only mirror me back to myself exactly as I was: clay-born, wild
Brooke Bovee grew up in Michigan with her parents and sister and a big family of friends. She pursued higher education in Colorado, California, Michigan, and Florida. She now lives in Miami, where she teaches composition and literature at Miami Dade College, enjoys a childfree adulthood with her partner Matthew, and does not miss winter.
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Gorgeous. Thank you.