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      November 17, 2015Ashes to …Alan Fox

      Now into limbo depth of time
      Is fled that soul which had a man
      And silent, empty, earth pressed bone
      Remains, to learn decay alone.
      Where to, where from, where hence, where gone
      None other knows, or cares, or can,
      A grab bag chance, a sack of skin,
      To mask our come, and going in.

      from #49 - Fall 2015

      Alan Fox

      “When I was twelve I knew I was supposed to be a writer, and I have been, specializing in business letters. During the past three years I have published three self-help books. At the moment, at age 75 and counting, I’m finishing a short novel, The Man Who Disappeared. Maybe that was me at age twelve.”