Bridge
Fat land, moss wadded, pushes against my feet, carrying me to the bridge; held in the scent of warm brine and red fescue. Swaddled by wind fingers, I … Continue reading
January 22, 2020 · Leave a comment
Fat land, moss wadded, pushes against my feet, carrying me to the bridge; held in the scent of warm brine and red fescue. Swaddled by wind fingers, I … Continue reading
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