Secret Ingredients
Departure
the sliding doors shut
as the train pulls away I’m
still on the platform
–
changing winds-
the last robin
takes wing
Glutton
surrounded by wealth
still dissatisfied with the
overabundance
–
winter rain-
runnels
overflowing
Forge
the heat of the forge-
showers of embers rise up
into a gunmetal sky
–
cold anvil-
hammers
ringing
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