In my place


My eye is ever shadowed by a hawk.
I fear the quick blow
nor am I wrapped in cabbage leaves
here I am
sunk among the slender trunks.

I say there are quite a few
sharp lines going by
they must fly
for I'll stay here
the shadow will change forever.
Or it will land in me, the wind bird
shooting its shadow in the end
with beak ajar.










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