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      April 6, 2014DesertSarah Brown Weitzman

      Bare as a page
      the straight road ahead
      scrub brush alongside
      patches of cracked ground
      drying to dust.
      Nothing fertile for miles
      of arid thinking.
      Days of this same terrain
      up the Baja.
      Weeks of this notebook
      on my lap
      blank as the land.
      The border tonight
      and customs.
      Nothing to declare.

      from Issue #14 - Winter 2000

      Sarah Brown Weitzman

      “I began writing in 1977. After having over 200 poems published, I won a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship in 1984 and stopped sending out my work. I don’t know if there was a connection. I started submitting my poems again in 1999 and am finding it’s cold out there.”