From 9a2e2a9c3e0396f956381b8ee4af80fe3e8cf652 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Case Duckworth Date: Mon, 2 Mar 2015 18:31:47 -0700 Subject: Add thing class to pieces in template; recompile --- riptide_memory.html | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) (limited to 'riptide_memory.html') diff --git a/riptide_memory.html b/riptide_memory.html index c209025..d1e3636 100644 --- a/riptide_memory.html +++ b/riptide_memory.html @@ -24,7 +24,7 @@ -
+

Inside of my memory, the poem is another memory.
The air up here is thin, but the wind blows harder
than anywhere else I know. It threatens to rip
my body away, like an angel of death, to the stars.

In Arizona, I thought I would forget the rain,
forget its sound on a roof like a hard wind, forget
its smell like a far away ocean. Luckily for me
it rains here. Luckily, because I forget too easily.

In a dream, my father is caught by a riptide off-shore.
He’s pulled far out, far enough that the shoreline’s
a line in his memory on the horizon. I can see him
swimming, hand over hand, pulling his small weight

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