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Sarah Bitterfield: Poem From a Woman's Dream Journal · Franz Wright As soon as you fall asleep they hand you your own clothes, the lamp and shovel. Out in the backyard you come to a mound covered thinly with grass: in the first shovel, a child's tooth. You keep on digging then you have a whole set of them. They're yellow like kernels of hard corn, they belong to a girl with a field in her name, she got buried here in November the day you were born. How do you know this? You're asleep and allowed to know everything. November 1972 The Missouri Review · 31 ...

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