Two nights ago, you shook your head at the saffron flags that line the narrow lane behind our flat like wilted marigolds– They are a kind of anger, a kind of challenge, you said. Last night, we watched news of…
Poems about the dark times.
Two nights ago, you shook your head at the saffron flags that line the narrow lane behind our flat like wilted marigolds– They are a kind of anger, a kind of challenge, you said. Last night, we watched news of…