Daily Archives: March 7, 2015

Teressa Ezell
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In Praise of Mud by Teressa Rose Ezell

And what of this wind-whipped, soggy, savory day with its cloak of grey and its stinging drops, brown grass and bare branches, stark naked but still in glorious, dancing majesty? There is no train of hopeful, athletic feet running through the park now; just my husband, myself, and our wolfish dog, trudging. My husband’s loafers,…

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