Hats and meadows
Dandelion fluff and treacles
You ever see the thread spinning?
Winding, winding,
But they are falling.

One by one,
Strike, six, seven
Four hundred and twenty three.
They count for ages longer than that they
Reap from.

These spindles know no fingers,
No nimbleness, no treachery
For they see time and soil
Dearth and toil.

The same.

15.12.2020