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ANNA JACKSON

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Emily, too early

 

Dreams rush through me like trains in the night,

the tracks pulling slowly apart.

It is different for Emily

who says it is more like sewing a seam

between two pieces of cloth.

It is dreaming, after all,

which holds the night together

for so many hours while the eggs

form inside the hens without which

they would have nothing

to lay in the dusty nesting box

of morning. Or that’s

what Emily says.

 

 

 

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