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Gettysburg Review
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“Air Trails”

by William J. Schafer

I came of age with commercial aviation, which means I have always taken for granted an airplane-interconnected world. The members of my parents’ generation were still awestruck, outsiders in a cosmos dominated by easy flight. My father would stop amidst summer yardwork, shade his eyes, and search the sky for planes when he heard the thrum of motors. As a child I would do the same but from an entirely different point of reference.


“Freedom, A Theory Of”

by Lee K. Abbott

The story my father told—before he abandoned my mother and me, before he reappeared years and years later to beat the stuffings out of me—concerned his sister Shirley who, at seven years old in 1927, burst out of the ladies’ room on the third level of the old steamship Seeandbee, a five-hundred-foot, all-steel sidewheeler from the Cleveland & Buffalo Transit Company, went through the railing (“Stumbled,” my father insisted), and pitched overboard.


“Green That Inspires Longings for Joy”

by Kelly Cherry

All night, greenness lived in her mind.
It was a dream of the sea
Or bluegrass, as far as she could see.
This greenness was peaceful and kind
And magnanimous and free.


“Move Me”

by Beckian Fritz Goldberg

When I read they opened the woman
with the persistent headaches and found
in her brain a diamond
I was sure it was what I had. . . .

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