by Kirby Congdon……. A close friend asked me why I don’t provide some remarks for this column on the subject

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Portents When the sun fell down its light, having failed, went out. The sullen moon, unstable, mourned a sky gone

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by  Kirby Congdon……. After a plane crash in 1962 the New York Times appealed to our general sense of forebearance,

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by Kirby Congdon……. God: Hello. Poet: What? God: I said Hello. Poet: Who’s there? God: I am your God. Poet:

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by Kirby Congdon……. At Lenepe Park they had a real roller coaster but I liked the merry-go-round best. My horse

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by Kirby Congdon……. After the natives had built the stone walls for us to designate the legalities of the disorganized

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