I’m passing where the rain ends, I wish I could have explained
that it’s all a dream. We should close our eyes and lose it all,
scattering away, falling tall;
it’s the only way to shield our pearl from the slow, everyday.
But, between our damp conversations, all we got was ‘hello’,
Advertisements
Sentimental and lovely, lovely. https://grieflessons.wordpress.com/2015/04/27/street-animals/
Pingback: Oh, my dog. | The Hempstead Man