Hawksley Workman

Hawksley Workman

I was very certainly born and raised on an old highway near a cold, spring-fed lake. I fell asleep to the sound of night trains coming through summer windows. During the day I drifted in the sky on a kite carefully fastened to a button on my shirtsleeve. By days end, the wind would die to a light breeze landing me home in time for dinner. When I got older, it was my wintertime job to cut ice from ...more


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