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Literature Text
blue scraps of paper
blown along the footpath
gales from the north
and no artificial sounds
machines unplugged
cables on their reels
gray, red and dirty white
trucks waiting in the yard
your story has been told
we can go home now
there's nothing we can do
it's winter where you are
blown along the footpath
gales from the north
and no artificial sounds
machines unplugged
cables on their reels
gray, red and dirty white
trucks waiting in the yard
your story has been told
we can go home now
there's nothing we can do
it's winter where you are
Suggested Collections
following the challenge "it's winter where you are",
this little story came to me
this little story came to me
© 2011 - 2024 KatDiestel
Comments7
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sad - as Edvard said - and well done.