Francesca Bossert Francesca Bossert

THE CLAN OF THE OLD OAKS

Across the road

from the ugly flats where I lived as a girl,

a small square of woodland thrived –

a pocket handkerchief of deep breaths

on the hemline of urbanization.

 

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Francesca Bossert Francesca Bossert

DUCKS DELUXE

Indeed, after a dramatic overnight storm, this keen observer – who requested anonymity “out of modesty” – noticed a surprising mass exodus from the golf course pond visible from her balcony.

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