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The Fiddlehead
Atlantic Canada's International Literary Journal
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Elizabeth Whealy
Night of Grace
All those many moons of Saturn
The Old Milk Moon
The old milk moon
Everywhere Small Fires of Autumn
Everywhere small fires of autumn,
To Loren Eisely
In the dark midnight
There is no logic
There is no logic
A Fossil Skill and Hand
A fossil skill and hand,
Do Not be Deceived
Do not be deceived
Blood Tides
Only a moon
Time Flies
Moths and fish are fleet.
Winter Melons
Sweet in the ice-cave
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Current Issue:
No. 301