In the solitude of the mooring, I watch boats tug their ropes, feel the breath of the river, hear it trickling, peace pooling among the withered gold of autumn grass and whispering thistles, its only mantra the chink of metal, splash and ripple. A swan glides into view. © Kim M. Russell, 2016 My response to […]
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
writing in north norfolk 