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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