Where are your thoughts this morning?
They feel far away.
In the snow on your mothers beehives,
In the folds of your fathers Sunday suit.
If I held you, this morning,
And walked with you this day,
Where are your thoughts this morning?
They feel far away.
In the snow on your mothers beehives,
In the folds of your fathers Sunday suit.
If I held you, this morning,
And walked with you this day,
Local poet/writer. ‘There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.’ E. Hemingway. All ©️DMM