A Fallen Wind

Send us Fan MailA Fallen WindThe clock tower points at the early dawn, the face of hours glowing in bronze upon the opening day, and below, the town awakens, shutters, doors, windows, opening eyes, stretching the shadowsafter the warm night of restless sleep, and above the glowing rooftops, the silhouettes of chimneys, aerials, the waves of drooping telephone wires, a myriad of wings reach and fall and reach and fall again, ever upwards in eddies and spirals higher and higher, into the rising embrace of dawn, time taken, time thrown against the hours of a fallen [email protected]