PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Kei Millerthe Fat Black Woman
In Praise of the Fat Black Woman & Volume

(PN Review 241)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Next Issue Jen Schmitt on Ekphrasis Rachel Hadas on Text and Pandemic Kirsty Gunn Essaying two Jee Leong Koh Palinodes in the Voice of my Dead Father Maureen Mclane Correspondent Breeze
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 251, Volume 46 Number 3, January - February 2020.

Two Poems Brigit Pegeen Kelly
Music

On this side of the dunes, there is no wind.   On the other
side, the sea side, the wind comes across the water, and
always, soft or hard, it blows.   But on this side, even when a
little wind finds its way here, you can hide from it,
because in back of the dunes, which are like pyramids, great
white pyramids, there are many small dunes, the dunes’
offspring, and in the small dunes there are countless
windless hollows in which you can lie down and listen to
crow cry and the low sound of the sea.   There is a gun
range, too, on this side, tangles in barbed wire, but no
guns are ever fired on it, and so on some days the grey deer
leap over the wire and graze on the grass, though the grass
is sparse and yellow, and sometimes they sleep in the
old stands of stunted trees.   I like to think of this, the
sleeping deer lying down next to the sleeping guns, like the
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image