Sunday 22nd November
.
A soft, mundane stillness
Permeates the damp air
Fallen leaves no longer crisp
Dewy moss everywhere
Wafting wisps of woodsmoke
Striving to cling to one’s hair
.
Still missing you sweetie
Treasured Angel son
xxxxx
Nov22
Sunday 22nd November
.
A soft, mundane stillness
Permeates the damp air
Fallen leaves no longer crisp
Dewy moss everywhere
Wafting wisps of woodsmoke
Striving to cling to one’s hair
.
Still missing you sweetie
Treasured Angel son
xxxxx
Oh how I get what you mean
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Very many thanks.
x
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