the swing somewhere near my childhood a swing hangs from the branch of an old tree which leans over the edge of a cliff often filled with mist an ancient house hides nearby only a few family members know of this tree’s odd power to…
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
the swing somewhere near my childhood a swing hangs from the branch of an old tree which leans over the edge of a cliff often filled with mist an ancient house hides nearby only a few family members know of this tree’s odd power to…