most mornings, scorching
at noon. Then storms blow in
sowing rain, the cold
hard bluster of hail.
In response to small stone (104).
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
most mornings, scorching
at noon. Then storms blow in
sowing rain, the cold
hard bluster of hail.
In response to small stone (104).