It's snow weather here, a skipping stone away from Antarctica, so:
Flake by flake
a tin with a foreign label fills
and footprints disappear as I
scatter forage for the game
alongside the unworked quarry.
A few birches struggle
amongst loose stone. The strongest?
Uprooted - like those compatriots
stoking their fire on windfalls.
Even as I try to wave my hand turns
in on itself.
- David Howard, Max Gate, Purakanui
"...work as if you lived in the early days of a better nation"
- Alasdair Gray
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