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		<title>First Things RSS Feed - Max Sutton</title>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 20 Jan 2025 16:53:24 -0500</pubDate>
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		<ttl>60</ttl>

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			<title> Remembering John Bunce</title>
			<guid>https://www.firstthings.com/article/1994/02/remembering-john-bunce</guid>
			<link>https://www.firstthings.com/article/1994/02/remembering-john-bunce</link>
			<pubDate>Tue, 01 Feb 1994 00:00:00 -0500</pubDate>
			
			<description><![CDATA[<p>Below these bluffs, branch water&nbsp;
<br>
like a wind in leaves&nbsp;
<br>
ruffles the hollow. The rush and spill&nbsp;
<br>
sings through bare timber.
<br>
Stretched in the sun on this rough rock,&nbsp;
<br>
I feel the stir among the hickory buds,&nbsp;
<br>
the red tips on the maple, and wonder&nbsp;
<br>
who could name these sounds&mdash;the flowing&nbsp;
<br>
over,
<br>
the surging around roots and stones.&nbsp;
<br>
<br>
Up north, a man too young&nbsp;
<br>
to limp and stumble, with children&nbsp;
<br>
not yet grown, lies in bed&nbsp;
<br>
after biopsy, making what terms he can&nbsp;
<br>
with a brain tumor. All winter&nbsp;
<br>
it kept roaring in his ears&nbsp;
<br>
with no interpreter. Now he has one.&nbsp;
<br>
<br>
Downstream my wife bathes her feet&nbsp;
<br>
by a sweetgum tree.&nbsp;
<br>
<br>
For you, John, heaven might start like this,&nbsp;
<br>
from bedrock, when one voice&nbsp;
<br>
that fills all hollows&nbsp;
<br>
like the voice of many waters&nbsp;
<br>
stops singing in an unknown tongue.
</p> <p><em><a href="https://www.firstthings.com/article/1994/02/remembering-john-bunce">Continue Reading </a> &raquo;</em></p>]]></description>
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