The Linnet's Wings The Sorrow - Page 116

The Linnet´s Wings Two days in January by James Graham I see from my window only a slate-grey sky. There is rain from daybreak until dusk. My mind is dark today. Hope and humour are asleep. I cannot say Never mind to the world’s wounded. The powermen are our affliction. They make men uniform, obedient, and use them as bludgeons. Their long arms reach into the streets, and pluck out one who speaks forbidden truth. Their busy fingers shackle the innocent. I think of Máxima. Her village in the foothills of Peru was stolen by a subterfuge the company calls acquisition. Her people who have lived there since the Inca times are dispossessed. Busy me [[YܛB]HX][\ZY\ˈp^[XB\]\\Yو[[\XNHY]YH\Y[܈][ۈ[\[[H\\Y]8&[[\[۸&KH\Y[]\XY\]\›X^\\\[XZ[ˈ]Y][Y\›\Y\]HX\\[X]HۛY˜YZ[H[وٙX\˂LM