March 16, 2016

Evening melts

The Swale rushes from a broken ale cask I imagine, way out beyond the lead mines and a million rope swings.   Dangles into the country like a rosary from the knuckles of the town.   It’s …

Source: Evening melts

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About Jane Bled

Dreaming, writing, singing. Curious queer human. Soul-deep; heart speaks.

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