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This poem is taken from PN Review 140, Volume 27 Number 6, July - August 2001.

Two Poems Matthew Welton

Writing 21

The bees all morning contemplate how slow things are
and hover off above the hills, in Rafi's thoughts.
Those bees, thinks Rafi slowly, move their minds like mud.


Rafi all morning moves his things around the floor,
the thought-up things he sits alone and contemplates.
A bee comes by. The hills emerge through drifts of cloud.


What Hannah has Liat has and what Hannah has
some mornings in the hills in terracotta bowls
is apple-coloured melon-halves she eats with glee.


The holes below the hills are full of sleeping bees
and Rafi hovers off alone as sunlight falls,
Liat says, Hannah says. A cloud comes slowly by.


The bees suppose a fondness for the sunlight hills
the sunlit melons roll around. The sunlight curves
like bubbling mud, Liat supposes Hannah says.

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