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

Two Poems Brigit Pegeen Kelly

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

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