David Hornibrook



                        Later, I began to call them my sons



Made by man in man's image a second hand

            image of God like the sun

glancing off polished sheet metal.

"I didn't sleep for days after selling the child"


Born of gears inside

a daydream of that "marvelous human motion"

sweetly green curvatures of wire.


Freshly oiled cogs turning

day to twilight delicately

the way a hair bends.

He could bend and bow


Harvest moon,

a little Autumn rain.

Oh beautiful Wu, a simple mind unfolded

            in lovely form

David Hornibrook lives and works in the Detroit area where he has been writing for the past eight years.



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