Katrina Fadrilan /Staff

At home: A poem

By Katrina Fadrilan

The familiar comfort lingers, amid the throng of foreign faces, the flood of strangeness. So during lonely days, I bring old intimacies in a haze. Oh, I can sense Mom’s supple hand, smell the citrus of the Camry, harken the hum of the city, the tickled taste of cherries or
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