Autumn you are at once hot-handed shifting gears in your blustery boots November was singing like a spoiled canary prodding us away from sunny windows…
Autumn you are at once hot-handed shifting gears in your blustery boots November was singing like a spoiled canary prodding us away from sunny windows…
Remember when I threatened, err, I mean, mentioned that I might post some of my 1980s flashback poetry? Well….. I’m starting out with this gem…