Essays, Fall 2006

Infinity in the Palm of My Hand

by Janessa Margaret Ransom

IT’S HARD TO NAME THE EXACT MOMENT when the frostbitten air of winter finally departs and spring, just-new on the still-gray forsythia buds, arrives. But one day you open the door and you just know, by the smell of new life and wet dirt, the brightness of the sun, the freshness in the breeze, that spring [...]

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You are currently browsing the writing of Janessa Margaret Ransom published by Segullah Journal.

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