But it was so long ago, so hard to work out And she liked it this way⁠—she even liked being hiders. It was exciting, especially when the guns Coughed in the sky as they had all yesterday, When Bent hid out in the woods to keep from recruiters, And you knew there were armies stumbling all around you, Big, blundering cows of armies, snuffling and tramping The whole scuffed world with their muddy, lumbering hoofs, Except the little lost brushpile where you were safe. There were guns in the sky again today. Big armies. An army must be fine to look at. But Pop Would never let her do it or understand.

An army or a mirror. She didn’t know Which she’d rather find, but whenever she thought of it The mirror generally won. You could keep a mirror yourself.