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Entering

Moonscape of snow at night—

to die, to crash,

could be a crush of snow.

All softness.

I imagine, driving alone,

being enveloped by snow, crashed into, quickly.

The mice must have these visions.

Talking quietly when they can’t sleep

about tunneling in endless grain until, full of it,

completely enveloped by it, peacefully, it takes them.

from Having Been an AccompliceFind it in the library

Copyright © Persea Books 2011
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

Published in Laura Cronk Poems

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