jean erdman
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Jean Erdman
By the piano, a student leans in. This isn’t music, it’s something else, nebulous, blue and circling. Waves. The hymn of creation. The hum of mossy, tumbled stones. Every wet field, every ocean seeking cliff, Every eyelid opening to meet matter halfway. All of the growing. Stalks finding room and Goodwill bound sneakers. All of… Continue reading