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In This Winged Instant

dragonflies hover over the dock,

swallows dart from nests underneath,

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gulls settle into a semicircle

across the harbor mouth,

a spangled fritillary

perches on my palm,

a cormorant lands on a piling against

the red sun dappling a graying bay,

and already the first bats

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scythe the wake of the rising moon;

there are indeed only yourself and myself

in an instant that will also take flight.