Flatlands in my mind time again, driving less a desire for radio interruption, haunted at the time and in thought, safe now but as if once fought.
Dreadful tales but only as once told, easy to imagine the Spitfire’s drone, withered men of few, on their last march, dry mouth and boots, eyes up on the distance, searching for any horizon upon the wide open coastal skies.
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 3:44 AM UTC
Flatlands in my mind time again, driving less a desire for radio interruption, haunted at the time and in thought, safe now but as if once fought.
Dreadful tales but only as once told, easy to imagine the Spitfire’s drone, withered men of few, on their last march, dry mouth and boots, eyes up on the distance, searching for any horizon upon the wide open coastal skies.