December 6, 2005
Covered in cold white,
A forest of ghosts greets me,
Swaying in the breeze.
A forest of ghosts greets me,
Swaying in the breeze.
A world of five - seven - five. At one time daily, now kind of sporadic.
1 Comments:
Scraping the white hell.
It is stuck on my windscreen.
Winter-time is here?
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