A caged bird sharpened its beakon cuttlebone. Did it wonder about the cuttlefish,decomposed, washed onto a beach? Was it waiting for an artist to carve itinto something new and beautiful? Maybe a mould for a brooch or pendant —or a bird. Kim M. Russell, 6th April 2026 It’s Quadrille Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub; […]
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