Margaret Magnus
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A time comes
When like a child, you no longer know
What is and what is not.

Through the skull of mammon,
You look out upon God's world.
You build temples of Nothing.

The rejected stone
Becomes the head of the corner.
You bless and place them
One upon the other.

And the birds that in warmer weather
Made their homes within you
Flurry out into the air.

(Written in 1993)