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Sarah Reardon
All Content by Sarah Reardon

Zechariah’s First Vision
A word, a vision given in the night: Among the myrtle, horses snowy-white, And, with them, standing still, arrayed the same, A man, with shining face, who knew my name. […]

Behold, He Comes
Besides the conversation of the cricket And distant whirs of passing cars, no voice Invades this night. The grazers in the thicket, If not asleep, stay watching, stand with poise. […]
