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This poem is taken from PN Review 42, Volume 11 Number 4, March - April 1985.

Lying Here Awake/You Already Knew Ruth Morse
for A. D. Hope

Just when you're reconciled to Nevermore
(or think you are), an unfamiliar step,
a laugh, a perfume you've not smelled before,
catches your ear, your breath. Despite your scep-
tical good sense already you're awake,
impatient at the possibility
that again, unless you're very much mistak-
en, now, the unanticipatable she

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