as a bubble on a puddle, the minutiae of life inside its dome; as a single pearl on silk, soft hair parted by a comb, a fresh egg or a glass of milk; as blades of grass mingling with a buttercup’s golden glow; as the crisp tingling when the accolade of rain stops – and everything […]
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
writing in north norfolk 