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This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.

March Night Alison Brackenbury
The road streams, to the moon. The sky
Is green and solid, lapped by light
The stars are buds, leaf-furled and white

The children clatter out of dark
Pushing down the stable cart.
'Don't crash it, like you did last night!'

My horse licks out my feeding hand
Stares at the upturned cart, diverted:
...


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