April 13, 2023March 5, 2023 Mist slowly circles beneath shredded clouds the weeping willows hang heavy in the slow rising dawn languidly trailing their tendrils across the still waters their whispers drifting almost too softly to be heard © Ann Bagnall Share this: Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Tweet Click to print (Opens in new window) Print Like Loading... Related
Annie's Poetry 