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This poem is taken from PN Review 150, Volume 29 Number 4, March - April 2003.

Three Poems David Mills


Here's the sunlight folding the day
Thick running fold over fold flapping light.

She's eating his hands airside. There's an arrangement:
In the lion's mouth, a ring and dependent flowers.

It is the moon shaking dust from the trees,
While the stars hold out and wheel
And the wind is taking away
My strength and giving it to the bending grass.

Hours in the Sun
Twelve one-line poems (with stage directions)

Fingers raw and stretched moves against the rubied
                                                        (first entry)

Stuffed, ripped raw and wet

Chased pearl black to head step step stepping
                                                        (growing clouds)

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