HousewarmingIn my dream I was the first to arriveat the old home from church. Windand night had forced through the cracks.I pushed inside, turned on lamps, lit a fire in the stove. Frozen oaklogs stung my fingers; it was goodpain, my hands reddening on the icybroom-handle as I swept away snow.On Christmas eve, I prepared a warmplace for my mother and father, sisterand brothers, grandparents, all my relatives, none dead, none missing, none angrywith another, all coming through the woods.
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