First, Last

Today I heard someone say it's better to live
       every day as if it were the first, rather than 
last—To think of the moment as if it were 
      the first sunrise cresting the rim of the hills, 
the first egg you cracked on the rim of the pan 
       before anyone else was awake; the first 
prayer mouthed before the first whiff of coffee, 
       before a cloud of white phosphorus spread
through the neighborhood in the wake of dumb 
       bombs. So many firsts now in rubble—at first 
they were dancing in the kitchen, working  
      on a new coloring page, or tasting a treat 
before being tucked, protesting, into bed.