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This poem is taken from PN Review 255, Volume 47 Number 1, September - October 2020.

Two Poems Maureen N. McLane

Correspondent Breeze

for Tom Pickard


two hawks above Park Avenue –
           on what draft –
April’s chilling us back into March

season’s out of joint Tom

Lincoln Tunnel
Holland Tunnel
wind tunnel

no fuckwinds here
but fuck, the wind’s
my ears’ bane, then
a caress

what should have come
to you last spring –
that wind, these lines


reservoir surface blown
north, a new year, January

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