Friday, December 14th, 2012
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A Poem By Paula Bohince

The Stars, the Stars

Virtuosity conceding to virtue…

What relief. In strange arrangement, they pose
their difficulties, though what

they most seem is distance. Abstract
and relentless as killjoy thoughts, self-given

insults. Book of them entered again
and again. Like a wife, a poppy-

filled field for dreaming. They call, come out! I say,
you first. Hard, to punish

and pardon. For the strong and the weak—
in jotted dark, the forgive and the me.



Paula Bohince is the author of two poetry collections, both from Sarabande Books: Incident at the Edge of Bayonet Woods (2008) and The Children (2012).

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