(Poem #123 on new numbering scheme)
A box lies on the sidewalk. Wind, in gusts, sighs, grasps and thrusts, starts to talk. The box, deaf, can only balk.
– an englyn penfyr
(Poem #123 on new numbering scheme)
A box lies on the sidewalk. Wind, in gusts, sighs, grasps and thrusts, starts to talk. The box, deaf, can only balk.
– an englyn penfyr