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from Rita Dove’s “Meditation at Fifty Yards Moving Target” 

THE BULLET

dark dark no wind no heaven

i am not anything   not borne on air   i bear  

myself   i can slice the air   no wind

can hold me   let me   let me

go   i can see   yes

o aperture o light   let me   off

go off   straight is my verb   straight  

my glory road   yes   now i can   feel

it the light i am flame   velocity o

beautiful body i am coming i am yours  

before you know it

i am home