I hear them through the chilling autumn mist,the muffled footsteps of returning souls;their heralds are the jackdaws and the crows. Before the sodden churchyard has been kissedby daylight skipping in between headstones,I hear them through the chilling autumn mist,the muffled footsteps of returning souls. The scarlet red of poppies will persist,although the blooms of summer […]
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writing in north norfolk 