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(Poem by Wendy Howe ) My figure leans against the garden wall absorbing the breath of jasmine and lilies. Here, I leave my body restful, letting the sun sculpt her shadow while I, spirit, stirred from half light, half space, enter the tea house and begin writing This morning, other women too will perform an act of separation -- dark laundry from pale, egg whites from yolk, or like myself, muse from the traditional mold of home maker and wife. To know more about Wendy Howe All Images & Poems (En) 
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