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for E.
One dawn I waded out into the fields.
Flowers were full sweetness to my hips.
Grasses hushed against me, a rustling,
like the ghosts of everything I have forgotten
in coming here. Hush, my love, hush.
Again, the wet fields are upon us.
Our bodies threshing outward as we cross.
See the birds sun themselves on tips of grass.
Flicker. Nuthatch. Their monk cowls, white, black,
a ruby gleam there. See bats pass this close
to our hair. You come up behind me, your tongue
in my ear -- the shock of sound and sweetness.
The rain, the dawn, again the end of rain.
Singing in the cloud's clearing, fields, finches say:
Do it. Now. Here. Quickly. In this patch
of sun. It will rain, again, again....
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Tell us what you think. Email talkback@pifmagazine.com
Jenny Factor's poems are forthcoming or have recently appeared in the Paris
Review, Prairie Schooner, Shenandoah, ante-up, Nerve, and an
anthology, NOT FOR THE ACADEMY: Lesbian Poets Speak Out.
Her work was
nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2001. She is a graduate student in the
Bennington Writing Seminars and will receive her M.F.A. this June.
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