Mar 2015
The field gray
The grain stay
A white dress upon the grass
Silver lines drop down the glass
A small hustle to the house
A tiny trouble that leaves the mouth
The scorch without a scorn
now the wake, how she forlorn
The grain stay
A white dress upon the grass
Silver lines drop down the glass
A small hustle to the house
A tiny trouble that leaves the mouth
The scorch without a scorn
now the wake, how she forlorn
