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This short 'A Changr Of Plans' page imagines a figure walking across stars and altering fence posts, then turns sharply to killing, a raised glass, and the speaker's claim of victory.

The page is compressed enough that each image carries moral pressure. The scan-verified fence-post line makes the miraculous movement feel local and physical before the poem returns to guilt and winning.

A compressed state of the poem (titled here with the source typo 'A Changr Of Plans') that grounds the miracle locally: 'I saw him walk across the stars / I saw fence posts change for him.' The accusing tally returns -- 'And how many have you killed' -- and the toast follows, but the speaker's glass stays empty for a paradoxical reason: 'Mine is none; for I have won.' Each line carries the moral weight of the longer drafts in only five lines.