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  with renaming things she thought had the wrong names. She would go missing to be found in the wood holding the rack of a doe saying mama.   like Buck, Miss Lue, & Uncle C.G. when I go looking for them.   I don’t have to go, but I turn up like a weed in the collards.   I steer my body through the dark churchyard, slow as my mama drove her blue Toyota down our brown street. While we have you... ...we need your help. Confronting the many challenges of COVID-19—from the medical to the economic, the social to the political—demands all the moral and deliberative clarity we can muster. In