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This poem is taken from PN Review 98, Volume 20 Number 6, July - August 1994.

The Sun Risen Eve Claxton

Summer. Early morning.
You sleep like a lion, look like a chicken.
The sun risen
Shakes its sunny curls
Across your brow and down your back
Until I'm sure the sun's in you
And not outside at all.
You are silent.
...


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