The People of the Land
We are the people of the land, privileged to tend to the miracle of new life,
handed down father to son, mother to daughter, burying

Ms. America

By: Ric Ohge

“Seventy-five…Now how did that happen?” she queries the face staring out at her in the bathroom mirror.

The chorus of the Cicadas,
at ‘rest’ for seventeen years,
now joins, blending, rising, falling…
with the evening breezes, shifting