anabaticBy Tom PickardShare thisShareat first they recce, easy, around the edge of breaththen gathered gangs unleashand breach but the wind has no objective,riding the slope of my roofSource: Poetry (October 2013)
at first they recce, easy, around the edge of breaththen gathered gangs unleashand breach but the wind has no objective,riding the slope of my roofSource: Poetry (October 2013)