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Seeing for a Moment

I thought I was growing wings —
it was a cocoon.

I thought, now is the time to step
into the fire —
it was deep water.

Eschatology is a word I learned
as a child: the study of Last Things;

facing my mirror — no longer young,
     the news — always of death,
     the dogs — rising from sleep and clamoring
          and howling, howling,

nevertheless
I see for a moment
that’s not it: it is
the First Things.

Word after word
floats through the glass.
Towards me.

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