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80

Foundry Worker

if I’d had the choice I would have liked to have been born

as the bell that men listen to while eating their lunch

under a tree, the chimes echoing into the distance and

dying away, they get up take their backpacks and caps

and leave

A Lingering Look

as the snows disappear into the forest

the shivering of your hands is the longing

in wing beats in a moonless

sky, a solitary flight

towards your own light

Hynynen / Horwood

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