WORDS • IDEAS: LUKE YOUNG
Four Snow Geese Four snow geese make their way Midway through the field Filled with chaff and fallen grain The black earth speckled brown Mingled into dried plants with brittle leaves The geese walked slowly Stirring the surface loess Collecting their own hushed harvest To be carried southwards Where arctic winds have never been
My name is Luke Young. I am a proletarian, writer and factotum of Indigenous and European American descent. I grew up in Southeast Asia and moved back to the United States in 2017 after many years of working and traveling all over the world. PAGE 56 | THE PURPOSEFUL MAYONNAISE
