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This poem is taken from PN Review 79, Volume 17 Number 5, May - June 1991.

Two Poems Greg Woods


Sicily: light through clouds like stale
        Of horses, thick air stale.

Vigilant olive trees, as lean
       As old fishermen, lean

Grimly into the coming fall.
      Within days rain must fall.


Conquistadors on Vespas coast
      Down to the boastful coast

Foresworn to force each day to last
      As if it were the last.


The lifeguard with his left hand waves
      From the edge of the waves,

Then with his right as if the left
      Had no conviction left.

(He embodies symmetry: even
     His oddity is even.)


Baring each armpit to the air

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