Sunday, March 28, 2021
The wind blows the bare clarinet trees, the field is a frozen stage where all the weeds lay flat. My dog stops and points, paw held up. We both stare…We hear the bells on the children marching in a row from the daycare, only no, they’re not…Only a blackberry hedge and a hundred yards separates us from the wobbly line of bundled up penguins coming our way.
Posted by allen frost at 11:41 AM