Dream Sailor. Hearing a distant chime of laughter trickle over summer evenings drifts me into serenity. Takes me somewhere. There’s the gentle wind negotiating trees and an amorous pair of wood pigeons preen one another. The garden is littered with my daughter’s toys and I’m left nursing a rapidly warming beer. There are clouds now,…
Day: August 25, 2020
Morning Haiku – 44
City rumbles on Twisted by August gale tossing tufting rubbish high.