nostalgia (Remove filter)
Endplace
One of a firepit, another a grotto
A low, dim mist leaks from between hills like the Milky Way erupted
From deep below
The earth was warm and its emerald undertone became glossy beneath the ice
And ochre paint of daffodils smears with browned frost
The home itself is but a disorganized cabin
With its heavy vines sewn throughout pine beams
And all the world is quiet but fo...
Thursday 30th September 2021 2:10 am
Recent Comments
raypool on OUR HALL
50 minutes ago
Hélène on Now or Never
1 hour ago
Hélène on SPRING CAFE
1 hour ago
R A Porter on Bungalow Dreaming
3 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Bungalow Dreaming
3 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Final visit? ( fictional )
5 hours ago
John Coopey on Bungalow Dreaming
5 hours ago
John Coopey on Final visit? ( fictional )
5 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Tom Doolan
6 hours ago
R A Porter on Bungalow Dreaming
6 hours ago