In the shadows of predawn, I’m wokenby companions of past and present,hunting my dreams until they’re broken.My ghostly bedfellows curiously hunt,purring, kneading, butting, knowingI will fill their dishes in the morning.They hunt me through the nightbut, once fed, they lick their lips,clean their paws and slipout to disappear into a brightnew day, off to haunt […]
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
writing in north norfolk 