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	<title>Comments on: Call for Submissions</title>
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		<title>By: Alyce Wilson</title>
		<link>https://www.wildviolet.net/2014/02/19/call-for-submissions-3/comment-page-1/#comment-12213</link>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Alyce Wilson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Mar 2014 12:41:29 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[To submit your work to Wild Violet, please follow the instructions on our Submissions page: http://www.wildviolet.net/submissions]]></description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>To submit your work to Wild Violet, please follow the instructions on our Submissions page: <a href="http://www.wildviolet.net/submissions" rel="nofollow">http://www.wildviolet.net/submissions</a></p>
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		<title>By: Lisa Anina Berman</title>
		<link>https://www.wildviolet.net/2014/02/19/call-for-submissions-3/comment-page-1/#comment-12163</link>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Lisa Anina Berman]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 27 Feb 2014 21:31:40 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[My name is Lisa Anina Berman. I have my M.A. in English and have published a book of poetry called &quot;SaltWild&quot; Here is a poem I wrote a few years back and am hoping to get published. Please let me know what you think. 
Much respect.
~Lisa


Santa Cruz


Memories--
temporary imprints of ourselves--
lost and found in the sand.

Whirling seagulls, 
squealing children,
doped in the moment 
by the calm of your hand.

At the water, 
the waves drew us out--
bubbles forming a heart, 
popping in the sand.

At low tide, 
awed by its stench 
a dead sea lion 
drew us in, 
to us.

Mother and sons,
making footprints and memories
Minus one.]]></description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My name is Lisa Anina Berman. I have my M.A. in English and have published a book of poetry called &#8220;SaltWild&#8221; Here is a poem I wrote a few years back and am hoping to get published. Please let me know what you think.<br />
Much respect.<br />
~Lisa</p>
<p>Santa Cruz</p>
<p>Memories&#8211;<br />
temporary imprints of ourselves&#8211;<br />
lost and found in the sand.</p>
<p>Whirling seagulls,<br />
squealing children,<br />
doped in the moment<br />
by the calm of your hand.</p>
<p>At the water,<br />
the waves drew us out&#8211;<br />
bubbles forming a heart,<br />
popping in the sand.</p>
<p>At low tide,<br />
awed by its stench<br />
a dead sea lion<br />
drew us in,<br />
to us.</p>
<p>Mother and sons,<br />
making footprints and memories<br />
Minus one.</p>
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