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Slanting Lines
Looking backwards, I can see
mistily, the shape of things:
the steps which, added up, construct
my life.
Most of the steps are small,
following, if not a line,
at least some vague direction.
Once in a while, though, they seem
to switch a gear, and take a lurch
at some acute, unmeasured angle.
Last September, meeting you.
The world looks different now.