Each step is done slow
Rocky pebbles fall beneath
No fences in sight
How does it work?
More stories from K L and writers in Poets and other communities.
Volatile, open the mountains have hidden ghosts before our gray eyes
By K L3 years ago in Poets
Glide into the emerald pillows of grass waves ply your wanders and wonders Breathe in the blushing blue thyme meadow, as it gives way to tawnied garden ground
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