Where it was shallow the grass poked through

Muddy furrows thoroughly filled –

the yard’s a lake.

You came across,

you in your boots

and green wax coat.

You had the mail,

the first in weeks.

The sun was shining then,

except for the clouds,

and where it was shallow

the grass poked through.

	ChasingDoubt on The passing world
	Julie on Still deeper within
	spanishwoods on Further still
	summer with monika on Psalm 151
	Julie Fissinger on Austria

	ChasingDoubt on The passing world
	Julie on Still deeper within
	spanishwoods on Further still
	summer with monika on Psalm 151
	Julie Fissinger on Austria

Utrecht Journal