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By Allison Whittenberg
... God, I hate November
all the hope I had hoped
against hope for Jordan.
Dad beat Jordan, to
straighten him out, to show
Jordan, to silence him.
My brother lived until the next
season, onto the next winter,
very quiet, like a fallen leaf
© Copyright 2004, Allison Whittenberg, All Rights Reserved
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Document last modified on: 01/06/2007