More and more
I look back
on the thing that I was
with refreshed eyes
and see layers of that other creature
that older eyes
were unable to perceive.

I didn’t realize how obvious
that thing was
how brutal its steps
how blatant his stare.
I never understood how predictable his paths were
and how easy it was
for his enemies to stop him
if anyone thought enough
to consider him an enemy.

I look back on that pitiable pathetic pompous pox
and I wonder
how he ever disappeared
into something else
and then I remember
that the mirrors are gone
and I recall
that my eyes
are not so much refreshed
as filled
with a certain sort of hindsight

And then I sigh
and I realize
that that old creature
maybe deserved more empathy
than he has as yet received.