Pinions

By | 1 February 2016

I want to know what that hawk got in the grass, what it ate alive.
Long grass where a Fogarty, a Sandy, a Currie walked
Shining for bones, a boomerang’s hand
‘You were the last we expected to do this’
I don’t know how I feel, except for mountains
And if they bring the artefacts back
Will we be restored?

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