By Sarah Hughes Copenhagen on
I heard a hawk and thought, perhaps that’s you. Looking up, shielding my eyes from the sun, another soared near, then a third. Before I even asked, you step in — ‘Which one’ is the wrong question. Don’t you see? They’re all me.
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By Sarah Hughes Copenhagen on
I heard a hawk and thought, perhaps that’s you. Looking up, shielding my eyes from the sun, another soared near, then a third. Before I even asked, you step in — ‘Which one’ is the wrong question. Don’t you see? They’re all me.
