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a poem. by Adam Zagajewski, translated by Clare Cavanagh
100 years of gathering…
I wanted to connect, even if it’s an illusion of solidarity.
I think about these women, alone, trying to make good decisions for their children, and at the same time fighting for an interior life.
The piney fragrance of gin definitely comes through.
When my daughters needed to report to their 4th grade teachers what their family traditions were, I sank for them.