The day, it becomes
morning’s noon-time end;
the time hits twelve; the time turns past.
I fold my notebook – closed;
I start another…
A way a lone a last a loved a long the
Forfeit the final pages!
riverrun,
Image credit – Literary Hub
The day, it becomes
morning’s noon-time end;
the time hits twelve; the time turns past.
I fold my notebook – closed;
I start another…
A way a lone a last a loved a long the
Forfeit the final pages!
riverrun,
Image credit – Literary Hub
william altoft 