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And the Beginning Follows the End
The seasons at odds within her, she leans against the window kissing the cold glass like an echo in search of a voice. Haloed by calm, she breathes quick breaths as the five fires of meaning flame all about her and numbered days file through ghost doorways. Listening to her heart on its secret slope, she watches a bird in bent-winged flight and feels the round world holding still. She knows the world is round and flat and waits for what will come a vigil she keeps for the nameless. She knows that one day more is one day less and that the sun's cavity possessed by light gives way to the dark's darker voice.
  
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