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Cynthia Baker


What of the child who was,
but not?
Rather that child had
come to an empty sanctuary 
and filled the nave with 
gravid promise.
No breath, but once a dance
in ovoid innocence till 
compact rent by fallen grace.
No guarantee of joy, 
but cerements when 
breath does cease.

About the Author

Cynthia Baker has loved words and phrases since her beginnings. Schooling included the usual expectations plus a tremendous teacher who taught potential beyond the text. She recently retired to a small farm in Ohio along with some cherished animals. Paper fragments with captured phrases flutter in her old barn.


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