Postures Bent - Laura Gibson

All our

Days have

Falling, spin

Tatter, ringing

Wooden sheds

Lining up in perfect rows

Our postures bent

Oh, mine and yours

All the

Leaders

Seasons change

Burning in our cartons

Singing stories in our ears

Pulling, pulling at our wills

When we

Burn our candles down

Gather our, unions songs

Faces white with paper, reed

Loving in our frail tears