This poem is taken from PN Review 97, Volume 20 Number 5, May - June 1994.

Request

Peter Dale

Your rearview mirror on to happiness -
you used to call it that if ever asked:
the scene is anywhere, too picturesque.
A stream meanders, glinting: two paths
meet at a bridge symmetrically repeat
oddpatterns from the winding of the stream.

A keepsake of you? You knew there was no need.
How could a meagre bit of earth dismiss
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