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Iris DeMent
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From An Airplane
Versts by the hundred, miles by hundreds, hundreds Of dim kilometers beneath our track: Reaches of salt marsh, feather grass that billowed; Beyond, the somber cedar groves showed black.
As though, for the first time I saw my country. And, with a pang of recognition, knew: It is all mine—and nothing can divide us, It is my soul, It is my body, too. [1944]
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