miðvikudagur, júlí 18, 2007

svefnfuglar

Einhvern stað verða krákur að sofa. Crows must sleep somewhere. In the dark you cannot see them. When dawn comes they will be so raucous that there will be no need to see them. Right now they are invisible, hundreds of them, hunched over the branches of the pines and dreaming crow dreams of bits of paper and fish heads.

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