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Poetry

It was not a dream.
Into the silk underdress of a country I disappeared

like a moth in fabric, a garment of God
whose hem I followed

forgetting the other world away from here
was crumbling.

I fell in love and said it aloud to no one.
It was in the late morning and I sat in a field of bright-faced poppies.

Then, in the fold of my dress
a feather.

Which meant somewhere else, I could not see,
a pretty creature was flying,

unaware anything had been lost
or anything given.

 

 


Allison Seay is the recipient of fellowships from the Ruth Lilly Foundation, the NEA, and the Civitella Ranieri Foundation. She is the author of a book of poems, To See the Queen (Persea).

 

 

 

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