3 views
nostalgia
Somewhere,
someone is lying by the porch,
bathing in the stillness of heat—
the occasional breeze soft on her face,
and maybe, she’s listening
to old songs on the radio.
I think of that
as I sit here,
staring at the rows of flat...
someone is lying by the porch,
bathing in the stillness of heat—
the occasional breeze soft on her face,
and maybe, she’s listening
to old songs on the radio.
I think of that
as I sit here,
staring at the rows of flat...
