"It is the evening of the day"
(words of a now-elderly philosopher)
Near the sunlit deck, towards sunset,
a butterfly
lands on a leaf.
And I picture the Visitor
come set down beside me,
and give me a nod,
“It’s time.”
Smiling, I rise
and go with him.
[After dark, in the study,
I
was frightened by a flying shadow,
which
turned out to be a moth --
Michael
versus Samael.]
[[ Foreshadowing
here. ]]
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