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Andrea L. Fry wishes she had been a folk singer instead of a cancer nurse practitioner. Now retired in Brookline, Massachusetts, she takes breaks from writing to belt out “It Ain’t Me, Babe.”
Dad was happiest in early spring, / when the lake thawed and the fish stirred. / When bluegills rose to snowflakes. / When the whole world got hungry.
March 2025Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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