Early Morning
I am the sheen of sunshine upon the grass,
I am the depth of the distant train,
The red of the knuckle-rough bricks.
I am the song of the bird you can´t see
In the tree that you can.
I am the depth of the distant train,
The red of the knuckle-rough bricks.
I am the song of the bird you can´t see
In the tree that you can.
posted by Eva | 10:41 AM
1 Comments:
you need to write about your trip to the Mediterranean.
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