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That dream of a cricket
in the dark of the night
at the foot
of the gallows tree.

Virtuous
cricket. Little, hopeful
heart-
shaped face
lit up by the moon.

Little, hopeful, insistent
song
about the future
sung
to a hanged man’s boots.

Source: Poetry (October 2012)

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This poem originally appeared in the October 2012 issue of Poetry magazine

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Ativan

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