on that sun-spangled shore
called the future,
where the currents
which have given us
purpose up til now
finally run aground
on the obdurate sand—
and
when the consequences
of our current actions
have been
fully unfurled
like the wet
and great wings
of some terrible heron—
that we'll come to understand,
just for an instant,
before coherence
takes a bow,
not
what we know
at that terrible end, but
what was going on
right now.
