In your movement swift from one t'other
there's a mystery: how you brood over each
deeply, your wings stilled
timelessly o'erspread like Aegis,
even as you've fluttered on to the next,
settling on't to brood another moment endlessly.
And they all hatch, your thought a meditation
of simultaneity spun out
dimensionally into sequences
in rapid succession,
each moment infolding
an unfolding lifetime within it.
And they all hatch. Fledged
in an instant and flapping off,
already chased by cats
from the other half
of your mind more inclined
to pounce than flit.
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