A Gift by Don Paterson

That night she called his name, not mine
xxxx and could not call it back
I shamed myself, and thought of that blind
xxxx girl in Kodiak

who sat out on the stoop each night
xxxx to watch the daylight fade
and lift her child down to the gate cut
xxxx in the palisade

and what old caution love resigned
xxxx when through the misty stare
she passed the boy to not her bearskinned
xxxx husband but the bear



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