In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

16 THE MINNESOTA REVIEW SUSAN FROMBERG SCHAEFFER SIGNS 1 This is the summer of signs. Today I saw a deer And shall record it Because It is always the same deer And he knows my thoughts As I know his. Others ignore that crack in the sky. Today, while I slept, A mist of old gold birds Flew through the crack in the door And into the sun. When I woke, There wao only The old feathered hat left on the stand, And, on the porch, Its owner's rocker, Creaking. The trees Will not wait In this new hilarity of air. SCHAEFFER 17 They are whirling Down the fields And the cows are stunned. And on my bed, I keep opening and closing my hands On this new, cool shining, As if it could be caught. 4 I agree it is not always The same cloud crossing the same sky. Today, while I lay, Watching the trees, The schooner Sailed silently out into the leaves. It will not return. That was the prophecy, That there are none, And to live Knowing this Is to live under a glass dome, Knowledge certain and broken As any other. ...

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Additional Information

ISSN
2157-4189
Print ISSN
0026-5667
Pages
pp. 16-17
Launched on MUSE
2011-07-06
Open Access
No
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