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Amazed at Gray Light Arm in flannel. Mine. A gift I don’t expect. I wake surprised to be alive. I learned the creeps with “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep,” nightly brooding on how God, if my soul leaked when I snored, and it improbably pleased, would take and keep it, Vulture-Lord, if I died, and if not, which soul-scavenger might rip it out to pin against a curing board or scoop it up beside the road, dump it into a stolen cart for its redemption value, melt me into mineral elements. Uncalmed by the two decades since, now I wake up in my dead grandmother’s nightgown, which I kept. 50 HadawayRevisedPages 8/15/06 3:09 PM Page 50 ...

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