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Oceans rose
And rivers went dry,

Bright birds fell
From withered trees,

Bees flew backwards
Into the past like arrows

Missing their marks,
So pollen turned to ash

While time ran out of
Clocks, or else stood still

Long enough for people
To see everything vanish:

All this world’s beauty,
Its plangent mystery,

Its radiance, sanctity,
Even its memory.