Musings #32DROUGHT’S END Last night I woke to a strange sound – rain falling through lead sky, cold like bullets firing wet. This morning – life’s insistence in the stiff will of a new blade of grass with never a thought of dry suicide.
DROUGHT’S END Last night I woke to a strange sound – rain falling through lead sky, cold like bullets firing wet. This morning – life’s insistence in the stiff will of a new blade of grass with never a thought of dry suicide.
