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This poem is taken from PN Review 116, Volume 23 Number 6, July - August 1997.

Three Poems Michael O'Neill


Spell

'Have you had a long day?'
  she asks.
Between the squalls such tenderness and care!
  Worlds lie all before her,

which makes me hold my breath.
  What does she know
save what she learns, and what have I to teach
  who learn from her that much

of what I think I know
  is wasted time?
She comes back, weeping and complaining, down
  on her luck, a fraught moan

bent on redress; cheered up,
  she studies these
green symbols forming as the cursor moves,
  reducing to 'Dad loves

his small-boned, large-eyed daughter'
...


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