Logs are frozento the touch,land in the wicker basketwith a thud.Dusty damp coalfills the hodand newspaper crownswait to lightkindling in the grate. As yesterday’s newsgoes up in smoke,flames roar to lifein our inglenook. Kim M. Russell, 14th December 2020 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: In the Inglenook Linda is back this Monday to […]
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