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After Reading

By Paul O. Williams / June 12, 1991



She sits inher high backed chair gazing out at the sunset,

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in her lap a book,

in her resting hand

a magnifier. Her face and hair glow,

suffused with the salmon light

of the fading sun. A smile

stirs on her still face

like a slight breeze touching a petal.

She is watching light

wash through the rows of cloud

with its smooth fervor. Some,

caught in her eyes, mingles

with a private fire, becomes one flame,

one phoenix candle, this one not setting,

not consumed.