we walk through
snow and cold and drive
shoulders convex
on iced street
whiteness drifting
we’ve heard the third
Eroica
time shifting magic
triumph and tragedy in the spirit of
humanity
when in a blink earth shifts
and tires drift and
we gently stop backwards
you are there in the
major and minor
in the hunch
in the drift and shift
in the forte and piano
in the father and son
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